


Ironclad

by Lost_And_Longing



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Tony Stark, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19706773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_And_Longing/pseuds/Lost_And_Longing
Summary: "I wanted you to be better," Howard's voice echoes in his mind. "You were never good enough."It's only once Tony meets the Avengers that he realizes just how wrong Howard was.OR: The Avengers became superheroes. Now it's time to become a family. Featuring insecure!Tony.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is gonna be fun!
> 
> It's basically what it says on the tin: insecure!Tony and Avengers slowly becoming a family. There are going to be mentions of PTSD, panic attacks, and suicide (though not the actual thing). Tony's a bit messed up in the head and I want to be true to his character. This fic is also a feels-good vent type fic for me, designed to be character-heavy, not plot-heavy. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

The Avengers were going to be the death of Tony. Or more accurately, the Avengers' living in Stark Tower was going to be.

You see, one week into knowing the Avengers, Tony had gotten the brilliant idea into his head of having all of them live with him. In his house. Permanently.

Where had he gotten this idea, you ask? Well, Pepper would probably say from his sheer stupidity. Tony preferred to think of it more as helping out the superheroes who'd saved the world. 

Here's how it had gone down. One week after the Avengers had saved New York and by extension the entire world, Nick Fury had called the Avengers in for a meeting. It had been to formally set up the Avengers as a team. Tony, as a consultant, had been invited along for politeness, he was guessing.

Well, good old Cap had mentioned something about his living situation with SHIELD. Tony didn't even remember what it was; all his attention was taken by Fury's response.

"If you don't like it, you can go and live on the streets. That's your only other option, Rogers."

The resigned look on Rogers' face had made Tony snap. He'd said the first thing that came to his mouth: "He can live with me."

Everyone swiveled around to stare at Tony. 

Unfortunately, Tony had a habit of digging himself deeper into messes once he'd started them. "Banner, too. Actually, all of you can. I mean, come on! We saved the world together, we can do some buddying up! I have way more space than I need, after all."

He eyed Rogers, expecting a jab about his wealth, but the man looked stunned. 

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about this, Stark? You want to house the Avengers?"

Tony looked around the table. Varying degrees of surprise and amazement shone on the five Avengers' faces. He shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Those were some famous last words. That night and the entire next day was a time of furious renovations - or so he told the team. In reality, he'd started building rooms for them three days after New York. He'd started it more as a way to escape the nightmares that plagued him than anything, but damn if it hadn't caught on.

At nine p.m. that next day, the Avengers came to their new home.

Despite every warning signal in his brain telling him not to be, Tony was excited. He loved giving gifts, and he'd put a lot of effort into their rooms. He'd given Romanoff a dance studio, Banner a library, even Rogers an art studio.

There was only one problem. They didn't share his excitement.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. It was weird. They both did and didn't. Barton was a prime example of it. 

When Tony first led the man into his rooms, Barton was just as excited as Tony was. He talked just as fast as Tony did, firing rapid questions about the place and going so far as to bounce on the balls of his feet when Tony showed him the shooting range. Then he sobered.

"Dude, you made this for me?" Barton's tone was disbelieving. He looked both awed and overwhelmed.

Tony rolled his eyes, forcing a casualness he didn't feel. "See any other archers around here?"

"Well, no, it's just- you didn't have to do this for me."

The words were quiet but they still hurt. Tony soldiered through the sting of rejection. Of course Barton didn't want it - he probably had a much better one back at SHIELD headquarters.

"Well, I did," he said, keeping his voice as light as he could, "and it was an awful lot of money so no take-backs, Feathers. You're stuck with it whether you like it or not. You don't have to use it."

Then, deciding he'd wounded his pride enough for the day, he turned and started away, throwing over his shoulder a, "Kitchen's up at floor 63 if you get hungry. Ciao."

Footsteps. Barton caught his elbow. "Wait, Tony, that's not what I meant."

"Couldn't have said it any clearer, and I _am_ a genius," Tony said with a bit of a snap in his voice, going to pull away. The hand on his arm was...nice, but there was a reason Tony didn't like being handed things and that reason extended to touch, too. 

The hand tightened, pulling Tony up short. He wished he could've said it was PTSD that caused his heart to race, but it was just genuine surprise. He couldn't remember the last time anyone other than Rhodey or Pepper had willingly touched him for anything other than sex.

He reluctantly turned back around, eyeing Barton with a _this better be good_ sort of face. He'd been told he was great at them.

"Dude, listen. That came out wrong and I'm sorry. Walking disaster here, see?" Barton gave a self-deprecating smile. "What I meant was I wasn't expecting you to go to all that trouble on my part, but I really...shit, I really appreciate it, okay?"

Tony blinked a few times. There weren't a whole lot of cracks in the iron he'd locked around his heart but it looked like Barton had managed to find one and within a week of knowing him to boot. That meant it was _definitely_ time to leave before that crack got any wider. Tony'd willingly kill himself before being vulnerable in front of anyone, especially the Avengers.

"Great, cool, nice to know someone appreciates my genius around here," Tony rattled off rapidly, then hid a wince. "Not that people don't. But idiots abound and, uh, unfortunately I have to show them around to theirrooms so you'll have to excuse me, Barton."

Barton let go of Tony's arm and seemed almost to twitch. "It's, uh...everyone else calls me Clint."

Shit. If he refused, Barton would probably think he disliked him, which wasn't at all what Tony was going for. He was actually trying to - well, not make friends since three going on four decades of existence had told him that was impossible - but, he was trying to be nice. To make an effort. Tony Stark wasn't recommended, Tony Stark was just a consultant, but the Avengers Initiative was the closest thing he had to atoning for his crimes. He couldn't mess this up, too.

"Right, Clinty Clint. Y'know, I still think I like Birdbrain better, or Legolas. Legolas was definitely a brilliant nickname and I'm keeping it." He paused, suddenly remembering that people often disliked his nicknames. "Uh, unless you're vetoing it. Pep's always telling me not to force things on other people-"

"It's fine," Barton interrupted, looking awkward. Tony wanted to kick himself. He'd had no more than three conversations with the man, only one of them longer than five minutes. He was getting himself in way too far, way too fast.

This was why he didn't have friends.

"Cool." Tony withdrew to the elevator. "Well, if you need something from me, I already introduced you to JARVIS. Just tell him and he'll contact me."

"What, I can't come talk to you myself?" Barton asked. "You too good to commune with the plebeians or something?"

It was impossible to tell if Barton meant the last comment - Tony's people skills had never been the best, and Barton used sarcasm like a second language. "You know me: genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist. Also the chief engineer and designer of Stark Industries so, you know. Bit busy." 

_Come on, Tony. You have to try,_ he reminded himself. They wouldn't even want him as a consultant if he pissed them off too much. "But if you need something I'll do it for you. I'll even pinky swear if you want."

Barton rolled his eyes, but his shoulders had relaxed a little. "No pinky swear necessary. Dunno about you but I'm not _five."_

Tony took that as the out it was and grinned. "From where I'm standing, I'd say four at the most. Well, duty calls. I'd tell you not to destroy the place, but if you actually manage it I'll be legitimately impressed - I Hulk-proofed the whole place."

"The whole place?" Barton's face had tightened a little and Tony wasn't going to try and puzzle _that_ out.

"Yeeeep." He drew the word out and stepped into the elevator. "Like I said, JARVIS is about to kick my ass if I don't show the Itsy Bitsy Spider her new place. It's right above yours, by the way. Figured you'd want to be close to her. So sayanora and all that."

The elevator door closed. Tony sagged against the wall and closed his eyes, heaving out a sigh. That had been draining. For all his talk about being a playboy, he was still an introvert. Barton had gotten under his skin in a way not many people had. Tony knew he'd have to make sure that didn't keep happening. The last people he'd opened to were either dead, had betrayed him, or had left him. 

There was not a chance in _hell_ he was giving the Avengers the chance to do that to him as well.

With a touch of nerves, he went up to the communal floor the rest of the Avengers were waiting on and grabbed Thor.

Thor loved his room about as much as Barton did. Tony made sure to show him everything from the built-in observatory (so you can see the stars, Thunderbolt) to the small pool he'd installed as Thor's bathtub (I heard that's what you're used to in Asgard, right?). 

Thor actually started to tear up, waxing poetic in his long, elegant phrases about how Tony was a worthy shield-brother and a generous soul. Tony was already primed to bolt - seriously, what was _with_ these Avengers - when Thor pulled him close and hugged him.

There was no polite way to put it - Tony flailed. "U-Uh, Thor buddy, not that you're not great and all, but we aren't- aren't t-there yet."

Thor pulled back, and just in time, because Tony had started to melt into the hug. He hadn't been hugged in so long. "We are not 'there' yet, brother Anthony? To where must we get to before we can share in the bonding of brotherhood?"

Tony really hoped that was Thor's term for teammates. He swallowed and put his hands behind his back. They weren't as steady as he'd like, and Thor was surprisingly perceptive. "Don't get me wrong, you're awesome and everything, it's just I've only known you for a week."

Less than a week, actually. Thor had been in Asgard for the sentencing of his brother and hadn't gotten back until two days before. He'd been busy until just yesterday, when they'd met with Fury and Tony had invited the Avengers to live with him.

It certainly wasn't the worst decision he'd made, but with how the day was shaping up, it might not end well for him.

"I see, you wish for a longer acquaintance before we embrace," said Thor, not quite getting the point. 

Tony flushed at the wording. Any normal person would've taken Tony's hint and backed off, but either Thor was obtuse or he just really wanted to be friends with Tony. Given how perceptive he'd been so far, Tony wasn't sure which one was more unlikely.

"S-Sure, we'll go with that. So in your bedroom, there's-"

"How long is the period of time you require for this?" Thor interrupted. He'd fixed Tony with an earnest look. "I wish to be close friends with you, son of Stark. You have the soul of a true shield-brother."

Tony had no idea how to respond. He stared at Thor for a solid second. "I, uh, what?"

Thor lifted his hands, went to set them on Tony's shoulders, then stopped. "All of the Avengers are worthy combatants and true allies of Asgard! I wish to cultivate a strong bond between all of us, Friend Anthony."

"O-Oh." Tony had almost pulled his thoughts back together. He took a step back and slapped on an easy smile. "Well, hate to burst your bubble, Point-Break, but I'm not really an Avenger. So, the bedroom has-"

"It matters not what your title may be," Thor said, quieter. Apparently he had an indoor voice after all. "Your heart is generous and kind, and you have the courage of Odin himself. Verily, you are of-"

"Sorry to interrupt," Tony lied swiftly, "and really, I appreciate the sentiment. I'll get back to you on your, uh, friendship dates, but until then there's a bedroom waiting for us!"

Thor looked at him for a few seconds. Tony's stomach dropped. Every time he'd mentioned showing Thor the rest of his rooms, he'd interrupted Tony. Maybe he didn't really like them after all?

"Very well, Friend Anthony. Lead on."

Tony swallowed. If he'd come this close to disaster in the first twenty minutes of talking to Thor alone, he wasn't sure what another twenty minutes would do. Especially if Thor didn't actually like his rooms.

Which, when Tony thought about it, made sense. After all, the guy had grown up on an alien planet that was apparently far more advanced than Earth. Of course Tony's technology wasn't good enough for Thor. The thought stung his pride a little, but he pushed past it.

"On second thoughts," he hedged, "I think I'll let JARVIS give you the grand tour. You remember him, right?"

"Of course. He is the creation you named and put inside these walls. A fine construction even my brother would envy."

Thor's face fell at the mention of his brother. Tony felt a little bad for the guy - finding out your brother was a mass-murderer and watching him get condemned to jail for the rest of his life couldn't have been easy. He didn't feel bad enough to stay and comfort him, though. He was far too stressed out and panicky for that, and he still had three Avengers to go.

"Not sure that's a compliment, given your brother's, well, everything, but I'll take it. Anyway, JARVIS is here if you need anything. Knock yourself out." He gave a wave and started backing up towards the elevator.

"And how shall I meet with you, son of Stark?"

It was the same thing Barton had asked. It threw him just as much. "You can ask JARVIS to contact me. If you need anything from me, he'll tell me."

Thor started to say something else, but Tony practically leaped into the elevator. The doors shut a moment later.

"JARVIS," he groaned, "how am I going to do this three more times?"

"I have faith in you, sir."

"Great, because I'm not so sure I do," Tony grumbled. "Well, time to pick up Romanoff."

The elevator stopped at where the other three Avengers were waiting. He guessed the proper term for it was the common area. It was mostly a kitchen and dining area, but he had installed a TV and a couple of couches. That was more courtesy of four a.m. nightmares than anything else.

"You alright, Stark?" Cap asked as Tony stepped out of the elevator.

Tony bristled. He hadn't quite gotten over the whole "I've known men with none of that worth ten of you" thing. Or, you know, the fact that he'd gone his entire childhood being second-best to the man.

"I'm fine, Rogers. I'd be even better if you didn't ask such dumb questions. Hey Widow, you coming? It's your turn." 

Rogers gave Banner a look, who shrugged and didn't return the look. Tony knew he'd liked Banner for a reason.

Romanoff was next to Tony the next instant, moving as soundlessly as she always did. "You'd better impress me, Stark. I didn't leave SHIELD headquarters for nothing."

Tony fixed her with a smirk, swallowing down the anxiety her statement produced. He'd had no idea what she'd want for her floor, so he'd made his best guesses. With his luck, she'd probably hate her entire floor.

It shouldn't have been a big deal, but Tony _had_ put a lot of effort into it. He hated having his gifts rejected. He told other people it was because he didn't like wasting his time on something they wouldn't use. While that was part of it, it was more that rejecting his gifts felt like a rejection of himself. 

"I'm offended you'd doubt me," he told her as the elevator started down. The communal floors were right below his penthouse. "I'll have you know, I _labored_ over your floor."

Like too many things he'd said that day, his intended joke fell flat and came out sounding far too genuine. Romanoff just stared at him. 

It was at that moment that the doors opened. Tony decided he'd kiss JARVIS later - he wasn't sure how he'd do that exactly but he'd definitely give it a try. "Alright, here we are, Natashlie. Let's start with- what?"

Romanoff had looked over the room the elevator opened out into - sleek, modern, built specifically for defensive positioning in a fight - then turned to him with an actual look of surprise. For her to look like that, she must've been shocked.

"When you said 'floor,' I wasn't expecting an entire floor to myself. I thought I'd be sharing with Clint."

Tony blinked. Oh _shit._ Shit, of course she would've wanted to share with Barton. They were best friends, practically inseparable. He'd thought that putting her floor right above his would be enough, but clearly not. 

"If you'd rather share with Birdbrain, be my guest. That's one less floor I'll have to maintain," he said, going for flippant. From the way Romanoff's mouth tightened, he didn't think he'd succeeded. 

"Stark," she said slowly.

"Really, should've thought about that - genius, right? Of course you two'd want to live together. Birdy didn't seem to mind but, well, spy and all that. I can re-purpose one of his rooms for a bedroom, it'll just take me a day or two."

Romanoff had listened to his distracted soliloquy with a focused interest that made him more uncomfortable the longer he talked. When he finally stopped, she looked at her surroundings once more, then back at him.

"I misjudged you."

"Um, care to elaborate? Because if you're talking about that time you told me my lasagna was crap, then yes. That lasagna was _amazing."_

Romanoff's lips quirked. "No, it was crap. I meant on the report I gave to Fury."

There was only one report Tony could remember her giving to Fury about him, but he couldn't imagine the Black Widow ever admitting to being wrong on an assignment. He wracked his brain for further ideas.

When he didn't respond, Romanoff sighed. "I'd tell you to stop gloating, but I think you're genuinely clueless. I meant the report I gave to Fury that said you were narcissistic and not recommended for the Initiative."

"Oh." What _was_ it with these Avengers? He really needed a nap. "Well it's about time. All it took was what, throwing myself into space hitched onto a nuke? Should've tried that sooner, damn."

"Cut the crap, Stark. I can tell that's not what you really think." Romanoff had stepped closer to him. "I'll admit, it took me longer than I like in order to seeyou _._ You're better than most agents when it comes to hiding behind masks."

"Masks aren't really my style, Widow. As many people will tell you, I much prefer nothing at all." He gave her a wink.

She tilted her head. "Does that actually work?"

He started to get annoyed. She wasn't supposed to do that, just like Thor wasn't supposed to hug him, just like Clint wasn't supposed to thank him for building him a floor.

"Does what actually work? I can guarantee you everything in this building works, because I made it."

"You can drop the act, Stark. I know you're scared."

Tony stepped back. "Of what? There's nothing to be scared of." 

"You're right, there isn't. None of us are going to do what you think we are."

He huffed, rubbing his throbbing temples. "Look, if you're trying to psycho-analyze me just because I couldn't read your mind and stick you with Clint-"

"Tony." 

She never called him Tony. He stopped mid-sentence.

"The fact that you keep going back to that just proves my point. I never said I didn't want to be on this floor. I never even said I didn't like it."

"Of course you didn't," Tony huffed. "You can't dislike it, you haven't even seen it yet!"

Romanoff eyed him and he shut up again.

"You don't need to be afraid, Tony. We aren't like Howard. We aren't like Stane."

"I-" for once, Tony found his endless barrage of words had slowed to a halt. "How...?"

Romanoff nodded, business-like. "Now, would you like to show me around? It looks lovely."

He had no idea how he could possibly act normal now. Her words had left him reeling in more ways than one. "I-I think I'll have JARVIS show you around."

Romanoff's face dropped. He knew she was probably manipulating him, but damn if it didn't work. "You don't want to show me yourself?"

"I-" he sighed. "Fine."

One thing was for certain. These Avengers were going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Tony deeply regretted saving Banner and Rogers for last.

After how badly the previous three Avengers had gone, he doubted the last two would be any better. In fact, they'd probably be worse. Tony knew it'd be hard just to convince Banner to stay, let alone to help him out in his lab - because he most definitely wanted Banner with him in his lab. The man was one of the most brilliant people he'd ever met, and even though they worked in completely different fields, it was invigorating being around someone else as smart as himself.

Unfortunately, he doubted Banner would be permissible to the idea. He'd seemed polite so far, but Tony hadtried to turn him green before. That wasn't exactly the best first impression. Banner probably hadn't forgiven him for that; Tony'd be lucky if the man continued to be civil to him. Others had reacted far worse with far less provocation. 

Then there was Rogers. He was the only one who'd been outright hostile to Tony, and Tony had no problem being hostile right back. However, he knew he was toeing the line. He'd only been allowed to join the Avengers as a last resort and a nicety. If he antagonized Rogers excessively, as team captain the man might just kick him out. 

What bothered Tony about that prospect wasn't that he'd be kicked off the team. Sure, he cared more about the idea of losing them then he probably should, but that wasn't what really bothered him. No, it was that being an Avenger fulfilled his life's purpose. He needed to help others, and he had the power to do so when he was an Avenger. He could not risk having that taken away from him.

So Tony steeled himself and walked out of the elevator.

Banner and Rogers were sitting across from each other at the dining table in the kitchen. Banner had a Starkpad in front of him, but his eyes sat on Rogers. The two of them were talking. It was a comfortable, casual conversation, the kind Tony had only ever been able to have with Rhodey, and then only rarely. He stopped for a few seconds to watch them enviously. 

"-hadn't thought about it that way before," Rogers was saying. "It's dizzying, the kind of new perspectives I get to hear nowadays."

"Wow, you really do sound like an old man," Tony cut in before Banner could respond. 

The two looked up. Banner didn't look displeased to see him, but Rogers looked annoyed. "Why? Just because I enjoy hearing other people's perspectives?"

"No, just the use of the word 'nowadays,'" Tony said and smirked. "Banner, you're up."

Just like when he'd called Barton by his last name, Banner stiffened a little. He pushed back the chair and stood, turning to Tony. "I thought the team had agreed to be on first-name basis?"

"While that's nice to hear," Tony said with a roll of his eyes, "I'm not officially part of the team."

Banner and Rogers fell silent. 

"Tony-" Rogers started.

"But, I guess if it's such a big deal," he said quickly, "I can follow your rules. C'mon, Brucito."

Tony cursed himself. If he wanted to stay on the team, he had to at least try to abide by their rules. No doubt Rogers was adding yet another tally to his reasons of why Tony would never measure up to him. 

Oh wait, that was just Tony himself. Projection was a bitch.

Banner rolled his eyes. "We didn't say anything about nicknames, Tony. But, as long as it's not last names, it's okay. I'm not fond of mine."

Tony winced. He'd talked to Banner longer than any of the other Avengers, and he'd picked up that Banner's childhood hadn't been ideal. "Your wish is my command, Jolly Green."

Banner huffed out what could have been a laugh. "Alright, lead on."

Tony did.

He was far more nervous than he'd been for any Avenger previously. Banner's opinion mattered more, and he was willing to leave and go AWOL on a whim. 

So when the doors slid open and he led Banner into his rooms, Tony did his best to show him exactly how much he'd be missing if he left.

Banner's rooms were plain and simple in an attempt to not overwhelm him after years of living in third-world countries. Tony had given him the bare essentials and nothing else, figuring he could always add stuff in later if Banner wanted it. Like with Thor, he'd put plenty of windows in so Banner would feel less trapped. He'd also put a trapdoor in Banner's bedroom so he could hide in case of emergency. Tony knew Banner hated bringing the Hulk out unless it was in defense of others.

"I figured you might want a special room to meditate in," Tony said, opening the door to show the man. Tony had put motion-activated doors in Barton and Romanoff's rooms, but had held off from it for the other Avengers. Rogers and Banner would've felt uncomfortable, and Tony wasn't sure how Thor would feel about it.

"It's farther back than the rest of your rooms and I soundproofed the walls. And you can ask JARVIS - you remember JARVIS, right?"

He'd introduced the AI to all the Avengers, and so far none of them had forgotten. Tony figured a sentient AI was pretty memorable. Still, though, Tony loved showing off JARVIS whenever possible. Call him sentimental, but it never got old.

"Do I remember him? Tony, how could I forget JARVIS?" Banner gaped at him. "He's a _sentient AI._ That's about fifty scientific breakthroughs at once, and you installed him into our house! He's amazing, Tony!"

"Thank you for the compliment, Dr. Banner," came JARVIS's voice. 

"You can call me Bruce, JARVIS. Anyway Tony, what were you saying about him?"

Tony took a breath, trying to center himself. JARVIS was a lifesaver; without his sudden intervention, Tony would've had to stammer out some kind of slack-jawed response to Bruce's enthusiasm. He still felt uncomfortably like fleeing, however.

"If you're not feeling safe, I made a new protocol where you can ask J to lock down your floor at any time. It's effective for the other Avengers as well, but I figured you'd probably..." Tony trailed off. Banner was staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Banner let out a tiny, incredulous laugh. "I just..."

"Moving on, then," Tony said quickly. "As a side-note, everything in here is Hulk-proofed. That goes for the entire Tower, actually. You can't break anything if you try, although maybe be careful about the eating utensils because they might bend."

Banner's face had gone slack with astonishment. "Tony, are you for real? I can't break _anything?"_

Tony hastily back-tracked. "I wouldn't say _anything._ You have a room especially made for Hulking out if you need to, like, de-stress or something. Believe me, I know the feeling. Uh, I can put some stuff you can break in there if you'd like. That'd probably be better for your stress, actually."

"Tony..." Banner's eyes were wet. "This is...amazing. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Tony swallowed. Seriously? Banner, too? "Can't say that I do, but I'm glad you like it. Next there's-"

"No, really." Banner looked at him. Tony went still under his gaze. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he said, and gave a weak chuckle. "You haven't even seen the rest of your rooms. You might hate them. Which, if you do, I can totally replace because money - billionaire, got lots of it."

Banner was slowly shaking his head. "Tony, no one's ever done this much for me. Especially not for the _other_ part of me. I don't care if you painted my entire bedroom with green polka dots, I'd still love it."

"Um, no polka dots, but I did put a very lovely blue floral in the bathroom," Tony said. He talked more the more nervous he got. "Blue's supposed to be calming, right?"

"Tony, can I hug you?"

He wasn't sure which surprised him more: the fact that Banner wanted to hug him, or the fact that he'd asked. He gaped at Bruce.

His hesitation cost him. Banner flinched, seeming to blanch. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I forget sometimes: people don't want to touch me because of the Other Guy. I just really wish I could thank you properly for this."

Tony groaned inwardly. There was no way he was letting _that_ stand. "No! No, that's not what I meant, Brucey. I just- I don't- it's not you, I just-"

He gave a defeated sigh. No way around it. He held out his arms. "C'mon, bring it in."

Banner exhaled a little too sharply. "Tony, are you sure?"

No, but Tony refused to let the man think he was scared of him. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Bruce hesitated for a moment longer, then slowly stepped forward and hugged him. 

It was like the breath had gone out of Tony. He sank, entirely against his will, into Bruce. His knees actually went weak, and suddenly he was holding Bruce much tighter than he'd meant to. 

"S-Sorry," he gasped out, because he never had been able to shut up. "Just give me a sec."

He expected Bruce to take that as a sign to pull back and let Tony compose himself. Unfortunately, Bruce seemed to take it as a request to be hugged for longer.

Tony cursed inwardly and tried to move. His brain fought him every second of the way, screaming that he needed it, he wanted it, there wasn't any harm in letting Bruce hug him for longer. Except there was, because every second he let this continue was another second he allowed himself to be vulnerable. If he allowed it to go on any longer, he knew he would fall apart.

And wasn't that pathetic? All it took to defeat Tony Stark was a hug. His enemies would be pissing themselves if they knew.

Tony closed his eyes, memorizing the feeling, and forced his knees to lock. He pulled away from Bruce, pointedly not looking at him. For the first time in years he felt embarrassed. 

"Thank you for that, too," Bruce said softly. Then, louder, "Can I see the bathroom?"

The list of people Tony wanted to kiss was growing longer by the hour. He pasted a grin on. "I don't know, can you?"

* * *

Tony _really_ regretted leaving Rogers for last.

The two of them stood in the elevator, as far apart from each other as possible. Neither looked at each other. Neither spoke. Given that Tony literally never shut up even when alone, the silence was stifling.

"We have arrived," JARVIS said, breaking the silence as the elevator slid to a stop. He didn't normally announce such things. A swell of gratitude enveloped Tony. 

"Great!" Tony said, stepping into the room with more haste than necessary. "Well, here we are, Cap. Home sweet home - for you, anyway."

Rogers stepped beside him, taking in the room. The elevator opened out into the living room, like with all the other residential floors. Tony had made Rogers' floor far less elaborate than even Bruce's, given that the man had grown up during the Depression. The decor was simple but still tasteful - it was Tony's handiwork and his fashion sense was amazing, thank you.

He'd mostly decorated in dark browns and blues, arranging the sparse furniture in a way he hoped felt homey while still being easily defensible in case of a fight. The living room was bare of modern technology and the furniture itself was as old-fashioned as Tony had been able to find. He'd had to call up a designer who specialized in antique furniture just for this floor.

"All this is...for me?" Rogers asked slowly, turning to Tony. "Tony, this is..."

"Look," Tony interrupted, annoyed, "I don't know what your and the other Avengers' problems with my stuff is, but if you don't like it, just tell me and I'll fix it. Unless you...think you'd prefer a room at- at SHIELD. Forcing people to stay isn't, uh, I don't think Pepper'd approve so I won't do it, but I _do_ think it might be better for the whole team thing you're going for here. Unless you're not, in which case-"

"Tony," Rogers said. Tony was almost grateful for the interruption. "Tony, calm down."

"I am very calm, Rogers. I'm just-" he heaved a frustrated sigh. "Every single one of you seems to dislike my stuff. I'm starting to think it's me, not my things, which is honestly stupid, because there's no reason to hate my stuff just 'cause you don't like me. I'm Tony Stark, my things are the best you're going to get."

"Tony, we don't dislike you," Rogers said evenly. "It's just-"

He rolled his eyes. "It's just that I'm arrogant, self-centered, have commitment issues, a drinking problem, reckless behavior - I've heard it all, Spangles. What's the flavor of the day? Oh, is it that I'm selfish and would never dream of sacrificing myself for others? Or is it that I'm rich, because somehow that's a character flaw to you?"

Rogers sighed and closed his eyes briefly. The movement irritated Tony more. He was about to continue his monologue when Rogers met Tony's eyes.

"Bruce was telling me I should apologize," he said. "I didn't think I had to, but now I see he's right. What I said on the Helicarrier was wrong, Tony. I woke up in a different world than I used to be in, and it's hard. Everything is different from what I'm used to. I made an assumption and you proved that I was wrong. Your flying that nuke into space was all the proof I needed to realize my mistake."

This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go. Normal people didn't apologize for their mistakes. Normal people pretended they had done no wrong, and anyway Tony Stark was a spoiled rich kid, so it didn't matter. Years in the business world had taught Tony that.

"Wow, I should attempt suicide more often if this is the response I get," Tony drawled.

Rogers flinched. "No, that's not what I meant. I-"

"Relax, Cap. Now do you want to move back in with SHIELD or what?"

Rogers' brows drew in from confusion. "I never said anything about moving back in with SHIELD."

"You clearly have a problem with your rooms," Tony huffed. 

"No, no, you've got it wrong. I meant, I was just surprised that you went to all the trouble to make this for me. It's a lot. But I appreciate it!" He added quickly. "I see what you did with the furnishings here, it was thoughtful of you. It feels like home."

Tony felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. "If you think _that's_ good, wait until you see the rest."

He grabbed Rogers by the arm and started pulling him through the apartment. "Here we have the bathroom - standard-issue, didn't think you'd want it too fancy. You'll have to tell me what items you want for personal hygiene cause I bet SHIELD's soap absolutely sucks. By the way, do you still grow facial hair, because do you need a super-razor to cut it? Is it like, stiffer than normal hair now?"

Rogers laughed. "Yes, I can grow a beard. As far as I can tell, it's normal facial hair - I didn't really, uh, have any before the serum."

"Awesome," said Tony, half-listening. He kept moving. "I thought you'd probably want a little kitchen to yourself like I gave the rest of the team. It's mostly technology-free unlike the one in the common area, so you might like it better. I did stick a regular fridge and freezer in, though. I didn't want to haul an ice-block up here, or whatever you used to use."

"We had fridges back then," Rogers said, rolling his eyes. "They started making them in the 30s."

"And here I thought you lived in the stone age. Alright, your bedroom's right there but I wanna show you something else first."

Like most of the other Avengers, Tony had given Rogers a private exercise room. Clint's was an archery range; Nat's a shooting range with a sparring mat. He'd not given Bruce one for obvious reasons, and Thor just had a bunch of sparring dummies in case he wanted to bash something. There was a much larger and more complete training room on a different floor, anyway.

Rogers' was outfitted with a weight table and a bunch of punching bags. It also had a treadmill, although Tony was iffy about that part. 

"If you ever want to punch something, I figured I'd give you some privacy to do it," he told Rogers. "There's another gym on floor 70 but I wanted to give you a private one, too."

Rogers was staring at the room, mouth slightly parted.

Tony tugged him onwards before he could respond. "And last but definitely not least, art!"

Tony pushed down the handle of the door and threw it open.

"Tony..." Rogers said softly, something like awe in his voice. He slowly stepped forward. "Tony, this is too much."

He looked around, wide-eyed at the array of art utensils in the room. Everything from canvases to pencils to paints stood proudly inside. The floor and walls were a different material than the rest of the rooms - a specially designed surface that couldn't stain.

Tony made an exasperated sound. "Fine, I'll have someone come tear it down, then. Waste of time on my part."

"No!" Rogers had spun around with a horrified look on his face. "No, don't take it down! This is just...a lot to take in. I'm not used to having this much."

Tony figured that was a passable excuse from a 1930s kid, so he decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt. "So you like it, then?"

If Rogers realized Tony's tone was a bit too hopeful to be casual, he didn't comment. "Yeah. Yeah, Tony, I really do."

"Good. Uh, that's most of it. I can, of course, get you anything else you might want or need because money, so you can just talk to JARVIS."

"Your...artificial intelligence," Rogers said, pronouncing the words slowly. 

"Will that be a problem?"

Rogers gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry, it's just...I feel like I keep saying it, but new world, you know? I've never- I'd never even heard of an artificial intelligence back during the war. It's jarring, but I'll do my best to get used to it- him. It's what a good team captain would do, after all."

Tony looked at him for a second, then nodded. As long as Rogers was trying to get used to JARVIS, that was enough. "Right. Like I said, just call his name if you need anything and he'll help you out. I should probably be going now - it's getting close to your bedtime, Capsicle."

Rogers huffed. "If anything, it's getting close to yours. I can function on less sleep than you can. But, back to the subject, what if I need to talk to you about something?"

"Again, just talk to J. He'll patch you through." Why were all the Avengers so obsessed with talking to him? He certainly wasn't that obsessed with talking to himself, and he was the one they called narcissistic. 

"Okay." Rogers looked a little disappointed, but Tony ignored it. "Thank you again, Tony. This whole thing - offering to house us, and then putting so much time into this - it's really, really kind of you."

"It's, uh, no problem," Tony mumbled, beginning to retreat. "Just doing my civic doing. Patriotism and all that." 

Rogers raised an eyebrow at him but didn't pursue the subject. "Goodnight, Tony. See you tomorrow."

Tony pretended the words didn't send a thrill through him. Half the time, even Rhodey wished he was gone by the next morning. "Yeah. See you, Cap."

He stepped into the elevator and let JARVIS take him to his room. He was silent for most of the ride up, trying to process everything that had just happened. Finally, he said,

"JARVIS?"

"I believe you made a favorable impression on all your fellow Avengers, sir."

He swore J was a mind-reader sometimes. He let out a hollow laugh. "I'm hardly a fellow Avenger, but thanks. Do you think...do you think they like their rooms?"

JARVIS paused, probably scanning or running calculations. "My data seems to point to that conclusion, yes. They all seem comfortable and content within their rooms. You did well, sir."

Tony smiled. JARVIS was the only one he gave that smile - genuine, unguarded - to. He was the only one Tony trusted, and only because Tony had built him himself.

With his AI's assurance, Tony finally let himself relax. He strode the few steps to his bed and collapsed onto it. He hadn't slept for the past three days, catching no more than one or two-hour naps here and there. It was finally time to crash.

"JARVIS?" 

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you. For today." He meant a lot more than that, but he'd never been good at putting it into words.

"I love you too, sir." 

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony woke up at six the next morning. Since he'd finished with the Avengers around eleven, that made for around five hours of sleep - he'd lost several from the nightmares that were becoming a recurring part of his life. Still, that was three hours more than he normally got.

He sat up carefully, wincing and trying not to grunt. The injuries he'd sustained last week were far from healed. It had been all he could do just to sit at those meetings and act normal, those first few days. His makeup artists had had a day in Hell trying to cover up the bruises.

He swung his feet to the ground and stood, feeling far older than he should as he straightened with excruciating care and made his way to the bathroom. He checked his reflection in the mirror as he grabbed his toothbrush.

Surprisingly, his face looked better, his eyes not as horrifically sunken as they usually did. Apparently a halfway decent night of sleep actually helped. He allowed a morsel of satisfaction to lodge in his stomach and thought, _I bet Pepper would be proud of me._

Then he remembered himself.

His grip tightened around the toothbrush.

Pepper had always had problems with Iron Man. Those problems had only gotten worse after his near-death experience with the palladium poisoning. When he'd first informed her of his new position as an Avengers consultant, she'd refused to talk to him for several days. 

She'd taken his suicide mission in the Battle of New York far worse.

He paused while adding toothpaste to the brush, not noticing the glob of paste that fell into the sink. Pepper had gotten angry with him many times. She got annoyed at him every few days for one thing or another. Tony didn't blame her; he was a pretty irritating person. 

However, this time she had been more than just angry. She had been furious. Furious, distraught, and terrified. It was a potent mix of misery, one that Tony hoped he would never see again. He'd done his best to console her in between her bouts of sobbing and screaming, but Tony had never been good with emotions or comforting people. He'd just ended up making it worse.

Finally, after almost an hour of listening to her accuse him of not caring about her, Tony had snapped.

"I don't regret what I did. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat, Pepper. Millions of people could have died that day if it weren't for me. How can you not see that? More people matter than just us!"

Pepper had stared at him for a long moment. Her hair was in tangled disarray and her eyes wild and swollen red. "Why don't you tell yourself that, then? All you ever think about is yourself."

Then she whirled around and left.

That was five days ago. That was the night his nightmares had stolen him out of sleep into a panic attack he'd needed an hour to calm down from. That was the night he'd started building Avengers Tower.

Pepper hadn't called since. Hadn't texted, emailed, not even left a post-it note about his upcoming SI meetings. Tony had endeavored to ignore the hollow ache in his chest and failed. Any waking moment not taken up with the tower was a moment to remember, so it became his new obsession. 

Now that it was complete, the ache was seeping back in. Agitated, he paced to the elevator and called JARVIS up. He needed to find a new project to occupy his mind. Mark VIII, perhaps. He'd add in some better weaponry and reinforce the exoskeleton against impact. He didn't want a repeat of last week ever again.

The smooth, steel doors slid open. Tony stepped in.

"Where to, sir?"

"My workshop. I have some upgrades to do."

"Might I suggest a quick snack first?" Contrary to JARVIS's words, the elevator had begun its descent.

Tony swore his AI became more human every day. "Nah, there's coffee down in the lab."

"Sir, coffee does not qualify as a snack."

He rolled his eyes. "Stop getting technical on me, you know you always win at that."

"That is precisely why I always do it." 

The elevator stopped. Tony stepped into his lab and released a breath as the familiar sensations caressed his senses. He loved all of it: the soft whirring of his bots and other machines; the smell of metal, oil, and chemicals; the soft, blue glow of the dozens of holographs around him. 

He greeted Dum-E and U and settled in to work.

* * *

"Sir, Agent Barton and Captain Rogers are requesting to speak with you."

Tony grunted. 

"If you don't give me a concrete response to relay to them, I'm afraid I'll have to patch them through to you directly."

"Wait! JARVIS, wait!" Tony turned off the welding torch he'd been using and put it down. "What do they need? And what time is it, anyway?" 

"It is 8:37, sir. I believe they would like to speak with you themselves."

Tony looked over his suit and huffed. He was working on completely automating the building process of his suits, but until then he still had to do some of it by hand. He'd barely been halfway through the newest upgrade to it; he'd sketched out new schematics and updated some protocols, but he'd only just started building it. 

"Is it urgent? I'm in the middle of something." He was already regretting telling them they could talk to him if they needed something. In the past when he'd told someone that, they'd taken it as a sign to demand money, time, attention nonstop. Tony Stark didn't work well with others, and that wouldn't change because of the Avengers.

"No, it isn't urgent," JARVIS said, then paused. "However, I would recommend you talk to them."

Well, if J was telling him to, he must have a reason for it. Tony sighed and stepped away from his worktable. "Patch them through."

He expected Cap and Barton to give their demands and end the call. However, the Avengers seemed to love defying his expectations. 

"They indicated they would prefer to talk to you in person, sir. They are currently waiting in the elevator outside your workshop. Shall I let them in?"

Tony blinked. He blindly groped for his coffee cup. He must not be fully awake. "They're _what?"_

JARVIS repeated what he'd just said. 

Tony found his coffee and chugged it, regretting it instantly when the anxiety curdling in his stomach increased tenfold. People never came to see him in his workshop, and when they did, it was never good. How had he already fucked up this badly?

"Let them in, J," he said resignedly. It wasn't like he could avoid them forever. He should just get it over with. 

"As you wish."

Tony heard the doors open and footsteps click towards him. He closed his eyes to center himself, then spun around. He gave Barton and Cap his best media smile. "Well look who we have here: the star-spangled man with a plan and Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire. What can I do for you?"

Cap looked mildly confused, but Barton was eyeing him with a frown. Tony grimaced inwardly. He wasn't used to being surrounded by super-spies. His acting skills needed an upgrade.

"We don't want you to do anything for us," Cap said slowly. "Bruce and I made breakfast and we thought you might like some."

Tony did his best not to look stunned. Given Barton's raised eyebrow, he probably failed. Cap and Barton had come all the way down here just to ask if he wanted food? He must be missing something. 

"Sorry, Spangles, all that domestic stuff isn't really my schtick. I'll leave you all to your," Tony waved a hand, "eggs and waffles, or whatever people normally have for breakfast."

"Waffles?" Barton asked, sounding scandalized. "No self-respecting superhero has _waffles_ for breakfast, Tony. That settles it. You're coming up with us. Bruce made pancakes and you're having some."

"Uh." Tony stepped backwards. The anxiety in the pit of his stomach had made its way up to his rib-cage. "How about 'I am the owner of this tower and I will go where and when I please'?" 

Cap held his hands up, palms out, to Tony. "We're not trying to force you into anything," he said placatingly. "But JARVIS told us you haven't eaten anything in the past twenty-four hours. You do need to eat, and we'd like to eat with you. As a team."

"JARVIS told you that? That snitch. That's it, J, I'm reprogramming you." 

"Sir, I've run the calculations and I believe that would be most unwise. My loss of functionality would, according to my data, result in-"

"Alright, alright, you don't have to say it," Tony grumbled, waving a hand at the air. "I'm lost without you, I can't even tie my shoes properly when you're not here, yadda yadda."

Unbidden, he thought about Pepper. He'd said almost the exact same thing to her. He blanched.

"C'mon, Tony," Cap said. "It'll just be ten minutes and then you can come right back down and keep working on...whatever it is you're working on."

"His suit, obviously," Barton said with an eye-roll. "Can you not see his workbench?" 

"...Ten minutes and then you can come right back down and keep working on your suit," Cap said without missing a beat. 

Tony sighed. He didn't particularly feel like socializing with the Avengers. He was drained from nightmares and socially exhausted. Dredging up his playboy persona was a task he had no desire to do.

On the other hand, JARVIS had been correct when he'd said Tony hadn't eaten for a day. Tony didn't much care for taking care of himself - mind over matter and all that - but Pepper went ballistic when he didn't eat. He needed to try. 

"Fine. Ten minutes." 

Barton cheered. The three of them headed upstairs amid the archer's ceaseless chatter (What upgrades were you working on? Anything cool? Were those robots in there? Do they have names? What are their names?). Tony was grateful to get out by the end of it, if just to escape the man's exuberance. By the way Cap's shoulders sagged as he stepped out, he felt the same way.

Bruce and Romanoff were in the kitchen as the three men walked in. Bruce was flipping pancakes while Romanoff alternated between scanning the room and turning the bacon. A substantial dish of eggs cooled on the counter, next to several towering stacks of pancakes.

Tony paused upon entering. He remembered Cap's saying Bruce had made breakfast, but it hadn't registered until just now. He knew for a fact he hadn't had any of those ingredients in the fridge, which could only mean they'd gone out and bought it themselves. 

He sighed inwardly. He wasn't sure how they'd already gotten his credit card number to buy it, but it seemed they were yet another group of people out to extort him. Just when he'd thought they might be different from everyone else, too. 

Not that it was a lot of money. A few dozen eggs, a pack or two of bacon, and a box of pancake mix cost nothing relative to his enormous wealth. He was certain that's exactly what they'd say if he brought the topic up, so he set his shoulders and decided to ignore it. If one of them tried to buy a car with his card, then he'd talk.

"I didn't know there were grocery stores open this early," he said instead as he came over to where Bruce and Romanoff were standing. Barton and Cap followed him. He briefly wondered where Thor was, then pushed the thought away. "I'm surprised you found one."

Bruce turned a wry expression to him. "Apparently, people make exceptions for superheroes." 

"They didn't recognize me," Barton complained, leaping up onto the kitchen island and crouching like a bird of prey ready to pounce. "They recognize Bruce, but not me! How is that fair? The Hulk looks nothing like him!"

"The poor cashier looked like he was going to faint," Romanoff said with slight amusement. "When Bruce shoved the bills at him, he nearly fell over."

They all laughed at that. Tony fidgeted. Romanoff made it sound like all of them had gone together. Without him. Then he registered the meaning of her words and stiffened. "Wait, what?"

The four Avengers stopped laughing and turned to look at him. Barton spoke first, as eloquently as always: "What, what?"

"Bruce, you have money on you?"

Bruce looked taken aback. He turned to the stove to turn a pancake, then turned to face Tony again. "Of course. I've been living on my own for years. How did you think I paid?"

"Uh..." Suddenly, he didn't want to tell Bruce his initial assumption. He could just imagine it: Bruce's confusion, Romanoff's eagerness to use Tony's money, Cap's cold eyes telling him he should've let them use it all along. "Nowhere, I guess I didn't really think about it."

Romanoff and Barton both stared at him skeptically. He really did need better acting skills.

"You're lying," Romanoff said. She scooped her pan of bacon onto a paper-towel-lined plate. "If you hadn't thought about it, you wouldn't have been so surprised. Where did you think he got the money from?"

Tony huffed. He wished he'd never come up there. He had had absolutely no plans to embarrass himself that day. "Why does it matter so much?"

"I'd say the fact you're avoiding the question is exactly why it matters."

Unhappily, Tony looked around at the Avengers. They looked back expectantly. He sighed, braced himself, and said, "I thought you might've been using my credit card, s'all."

The Avengers gaped at him. 

"Why the hell'd we do that?" Clint asked, breaking the silence first. 

"I second that," Bruce muttered, flipping a pancake with too much force.

"I don't know," Tony said defensively, wishing he'd never opened his mouth. It always got him into situations like this. "It's not like it would be the first time. I've got money to spare, after all, like you all have pointed out on several different occasions."

Cap still stared at him, his eyebrows drawn in. "When I said that, I never meant I would _steal_ from you, Tony."

Great, he used the s-word, Tony thought. He scowled. It was always better not to put a title to the stuff other people sometimes did to him.

"It wouldn't have been _stealing,"_ he scoffed. "Brucie would've been using it to buy food for me, not a car to take for a joyride."

"Tony," Bruce said, a sigh in his voice, "That's still stealing. It's taking someone else's possessions without their permission and with no intention of giving it back."

"Agreed," Cap said. "Tony, how could you even think we would do something like that?"

"It's not a big deal," Tony said defensively, glaring at Romanoff when she opened her mouth. "I'm a billionaire, I can spare a few dollars for food. I'm a selfish asshole after all, the least I can do is let people use some of my money."

Bruce closed his eyes and breathed out. "Tony, that's not right."

The tone he used was uncomfortably close to Howard's whenever Tony had disappointed him. He flared.

"Like you're a shining moral compass? Face it, Banner, we all have issues and mine aren't worth mentioning. I wasn't hauled into a circus at the tender age of fetus, I wasn't trained as a child assassin, I didn't become a radioactive shapeshifter and get kicked out of my own home, and I sure as hell wasn't frozen for decades! Any one of you would kill to have my problem of having _too much_ money,so I don't want to hear it."

"You don't have to be the worst off in order to be bad," Romanoff said evenly. It was good she'd responded first; the other three Avengers looked varying degrees of offended and upset. "It doesn't matter if you fight with a sprained ankle or a ruptured spleen. They both hurt like hell."

That, coming from a woman who'd been raised from birth to be an emotionless killing machine, hit Tony harder than he'd expected. "What," he said, cursing himself as it came out weakly, "You get that from your therapist or something?"

"Yes, actually. You should try it sometime." Romanoff looked at him for a few seconds more. He wondered what she was seeing. "Let's eat, the food is getting cold."

Eating was one of the last things on Tony's to-do list. Much higher were things like escape, avoid the Avengers for the rest of eternity, and the ever-popular melt into the floor and die. He hadn't felt this embarrassed probably ever.

He was too tired for this shit.

Tony ducked his head and shuffled towards the coffee machine, thanking God none of the Avengers had followed him and thanking God a second time that they'd started up their own conversations almost instantly. He wondered if they did it out of consideration to him or simply because they wanted to get rid of him - they certainly hadn't seemed all that happy with him in the past week's meetings. Still, their conversations were a distraction and Tony took what he could get.

Thor paraded in when Tony was two sips into his coffee cup, and announced in his booming voice, "The best of mornings to you, my comrades in arms! Let us break our fast together!"

Yeah. Tony needed a bit more coffee before he could deal with Shakespeare over there.

"Hell yeah," said Barton, and held out his fist. "Fist-bump?"

Thor gave a confused look but bumped his fist against Barton's. Unfortunately, he underestimated his own strength. Tony winced when a pop resounded through the room.

"Ow, man, I think you cracked my thumb," Barton complained, drawing his hand back and stretching out his thumb.

Thor's face fell. He started into a litany of apologies, all as wordy as his first greeting. Tony exchanged a wry glance with Bruce and decided to fill his plate.

They ate together at the table Tony'd put in as an afterthought. It was too small for the six of them, especially with Thor and Cap's sheer bulk. Tony backed up, going to eat elsewhere, but as he started to leave, a hand grabbed his free wrist and tugged him back. 

He looked up, startled, then grimaced. Romanoff.

She gave him a quelling look and shoved a chair in front of him. 

Tony huffed, pulled the chair up, and sat. He was squished in between Romanoff and Cap, so close his elbow grazed her as he went to pick up his fork. Their proximity should've put him on edge - in fact did - but somehow, he didn't mind. 

Thor gave a booming laugh at a joke Barton told and Tony found himself smiling.

He wasn't part of the Avengers, and they would never be his friends. But he couldn't deny that this was nice.


	4. Chapter 4

It took much longer than ten minutes for Tony to get back to his workshop.

Ten minutes first stretched to fifteen, with Tony only halfway through his eggs, too distracted by Barton's antics to eat quickly. Then twenty-five, when Thor regaled them with the tale of how he'd bound a giant serpent named Jormungandr, and Tony had been too enthralled to leave.

Additionally, Romanoff had been moving closer to him in order to cut off his escape. To anyone else it would've gone unnoticed, but Tony's nerves had been high-strung since he'd sat. He wasn't used to people being so close to him.

Forty minutes in, Tony realized with a start he was on the couch with Bruce, watching Thor and Barton compete in some absurd contest of balance while Romanoff and Cap stood off to the side with raised eyebrows. Bruce's stiff posture had for once relaxed as he sat back against the cushions, a small smile lighting his face. He was only a foot or so away from Tony. Tony wasn't sure why Bruce would've chosen to sit that close to him in the first place, but he ignored it.

He also ignored Romanoff's earlier, nonverbal threats for him to sit down at the table. Knowing her, it was an elaborate blackmail scheme. After all, he'd been betrayed by her once. Wasn't that how the saying went: fool me twice, shame on me? Tony wasn't letting that happen.

He ran his eyes over the Avengers once more and frowned.

It was strange: none of them were the slightest bit inebriated. He hadn't seen a drop of alcohol in the tower (other than his own) and he knew a drunk person when he saw one. 

So how were they having fun? It wasn't for nothing that Tony had been known as a playboy. The only time he'd ever seen people have fun was when they were half a bottle in and possibly high to boot. That was why he'd partied so much and so often. 

How were these soldiers _-_ these messed-up, traumatized, super-powered warriors - how were they having fun without any of that? It didn't make sense. It didn't make any sense whatsoever. And when Tony Stark was presented with something that made no sense, he studied it until it did. 

He went to slip out quietly when no one was looking at him, confident that it wouldn't be difficult. He'd done it frequently enough at parties that he'd become skilled at it. 

It was unfortunate for him that drunken civilians were a far cry from sober super-spies. He'd barely stood when Romanoff's voice rang out from across the room:

"Where are you going, Stark?"

Tony's frame automatically tensed before he regained control of himself and turned to face her. "Back to my workshop."

"Are we boring you?" Romanoff raised an eyebrow. Beside her, Cap watched Tony with keen eyes and a drawn mouth.

"You said it, not me," Tony said easily, raising his hands and backing up a few steps. "There's only so many yoga poses Hammer and Arrows over there can do before they start with the reruns, y'know?"

"Dude, you should've said something earlier!" Barton said, sounding betrayed. "I wasn't raised in a circus to _bore_ people, Tony."

The truth was, Tony hadn't been bored. New things - sights, sounds, experiences - fascinated him. The entire group dynamic of the Avengers was entirely novel to him, let alone their skills and powers. He'd been fully engaged until just a minute or two ago. 

He shrugged. "I was waiting to see if you'd up the ante yourself."

"I agree with friend Clint," Thor boomed. "In Asgard these contests are conducted by the people! Should they be dissatisfied, it brings dishonor upon the combatants."

Yikes. Tony grimaced. "Uh, I take it back then. No dishonor necessary, you guys were great. I just...need some space. For a bit."

He eyed the five of them cautiously. His mother had never liked it when he'd gone up to his room to recoup after socializing for awhile. Pepper didn't dislike it, but she also didn't understand it; same thing with Rhodey. He wondered which way the Avengers would be. 

Barton rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you just say so, then? It's not like we're going to kill you for being an introvert."

"I mean," Tony said, "in my experience, extroverts don't exactly understand 'hey I need a break from you because you're exhausting me but no offense.'"

"Get some better extroverts then," Romanoff said. "Clint can barely tell one end of an arrow from the next, but at least he understands _that."_

Tony gave a short laugh. "Right, well I'll call you when I manage to find some. In the meantime, I'll see you all...later. Possibly never. Bye!"

He turned and scurried away, relieved when no one tried to call him back.

He rode the elevator down to his workshop in silence, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against its cool walls. He stood there for a few seconds after the doors opened before making his way over to the couch (Pepper had insisted) and dropping into it with a sigh.

He couldn't even begin to understand them. They simultaneously rejected and thanked him for his gifts, then had the nerve to lecture him on what wasn't even his unhealthiest behavior. Then, on top of that, they were...

Tony paused, scrunching up his nose in thought. Nice wasn't quite what he was looking for. Romanoff was by no means nice, and neither were Barton or Cap. Thor was nice, but in an overwhelming sort of way, and Bruce was more quiet than anything.

No, they were just strange. Odd. Which Tony had expected; two SHIELD agents, a radioactive scientist, a 90-year-old soldier, and an alien weren't going to be normal. But this wasn't at all what he'd expected when he'd first met them.

In the first few meeting-filled and press-filled days after New York, he'd watched the Avengers slowly begin to bond. It was awkward, knowing he was an outsider but had to be there (and yes, he had fought Fury before and after every meeting, press or otherwise).

He'd seen firsthand how guarded Romanoff was with everyone but Barton; how overwhelmed Cap was, especially in press meetings with cameras and mics in front of his face. Bruce was almost as closed off as Tony himself, but without the snarky exterior. Really, Thor was the only one who seemed emotionally stable, and he was also the one who thought it'd be a good idea to challenge a reporter to a duel after the poor woman asked him if he was in a romantic relationship.

All of that, he'd expected. He hadn't thought much of it, honestly - it fell within his pre-set parameters of how they should act. Tony wasn't known for his tact, and he'd pushed his fair share of buttons those first few days. The panic attacks and Pepper's anger hadn't helped. 

Yet somehow they'd all bonded, enough to laugh together, enough to tease each other and compete with one another. And he had no idea how.

Tony wasn't one for caring about others' opinions or dislike of him. He'd had enough people hate him that he'd simply stopped caring about it. However - and there was always a however, wasn't there - Tony couldn't deny how awful it was that he'd once again become the outsider of a group. He would die for Pepper and Rhodey any day, but he only saw Rhodey every few months and Pepper...

He swallowed.

Tony admitted it: he wanted some support. Some...allies, if you will, because he would not be touching any word that started with an F with a twenty foot AI-controlled pole. But like always, he was the back-up. The _consultant._

It didn't take a genius to know Cap only tolerated him. Tony doubted the man would be able to get over just how little Tony was like Howard. He'd seen the way the other man looked at him: disappointed, unduly critical. And maybe Tony wasn't helping, being an ass like he always was, but seeing that judgment from a man Howard had idolized stung.

The first few days had been the worst. Tony had a feeling his suicide mission had endeared him to Rogers (and had carefully avoided any mention of it the man had made), as the man had never been as hostile as he'd been on the helicarrier. But that didn't mean he was friendly, not like he was to the others, especially Bruce and Thor. He'd warmed up slightly as the days had passed, although that hadn't stopped the two of them from arguing at least six times a day. Last night and today were the first times he'd actually been friendly.

Tony remembered what Rogers had said when he'd apologized, something about Bruce. Had Bruce stood up for him? If he had, Tony was going to give him the best present he'd ever gotten. At the same time, if Rogers had only apologized because of Bruce, that didn't earn him any points. He scowled.

Really, Bruce was the only Avenger who seemed to like Tony. He was the only one Tony had had an actual conversation with, the only one who looked pleased when Tony walked in the door. If Bruce started to pull back - no, when Bruce started to pull back - Tony didn't know what he'd do.

He ran a hand over his arm, rubbing at it.

Thor liked him, but Thor liked everyone. He liked Cap and Barton far more, anyway. Tony wasn't an idiot; he'd seen the three of them share drinks the day Thor had come back to Earth. Tony was no stranger to being the least-liked, but the knowledge was never a kind burden.

As for Romanoff, Tony didn't and couldn't trust a single word from her mouth. She'd backstabbed him while he was dying without a hint of remorse. She'd written a report to Fury filled with his flaws. It didn't matter if she now said she regret it. Tony had no reason to believe her. It was that report which had made him a consultant to the Avengers instead of a real member.

Barton went along with her in everything, so Tony doubted the agent would like him any more than Romanoff did. 

Tony let out a short, caustic laugh. Wasn't that just fantastic? Every single one of the Avengers liked their team members better than him. It was just his luck that he'd caught himself on the knife's edge of the world's first superhero clique.

He stood and went over to where his suit sat, scattered in red-and-gold chunks. 

It looked like Pepper wasn't the only thing he needed distraction from.

* * *

"Sir, Dr. Banner is requesting entry."

Tony stiffened on instinct, clenching his fist tighter around the soldering iron. What could the man possibly want to do with him? Was he still mad about Tony's accusing him of using the credit card? Or maybe he'd reconsidered his stance on the issue?

"What does he want?"

"I believe he wants entry," JARVIS said, completely deadpan.

Tony huffed. "I'm busy; I'm not going to let him in on a whim."

This time there was a pause. Tony assumed the AI was talking to Bruce. Finally, JARVIS's voice came back: "He hopes he's not intruding by asking, but he was wondering if he could come in and work on a few things."

Tony blinked. _"Shit."_

Shit, _that_ was what he'd forgotten! He'd built Bruce an entire Hulk-proofed room and completely forgotten his human needs. Of course Bruce would want a lab.

"Tell him I'll have a lab ready for him by tomorrow," Tony said, closing his eyes to ward off a headache. He didn't succeed. 

"He is requesting entry once more," was JARVIS's response to that.

Tony tiredly waved a hand. "Fine."

There was a slight click, then footsteps, then, "Tony, you don't have to build me an entire lab!"

Tony gritted his teeth. He didn't turn around. "Not that I don't love to argue, but this particular argument is not one I'm having. I'm building you a lab. Whether you use it is entirely up to you."

 _"Tony."_ Bruce sounded between upset and exasperated. "We are going to have to have a serious talk about your spending habits-"

"Cut the lecture, _Dad,"_ Tony snapped. "I am a grown-ass adult and I can spend my excessive fortune however I wish."

Bruce sighed and Tony thought he was about to snap something back, when his footsteps came closer. "What are you working on?"

The abrupt change in topic almost gave Tony whiplash. "Mark VIII. It's, uh, hopefully going to be a little more smash-resistant than my last one." 

Bruce winced. "No offense, but you looked pretty awful those first few days. How are you feeling now?"

Not much better. He'd cracked almost every rib in his body, cracked his skull open, and gotten such bad spinal contusions the doctors told him he was lucky he hadn't been paralyzed. His entire torso was covered in ace bandages and a back brace. Oh, and he'd torn his left rotator cuff. Apparently, falling from orbit was dangerous. Who knew? 

Even worse was the fact that, with an arc reactor taking up half his chest and a bunch of cracked ribs, breathing was almost impossible. He was used to pain by now, but this was on a higher level than he'd experienced for a while.

Tony lifted a shoulder - his right one, not his left. "Been better. Hit my head so hard I saw stars - oh wait, it's the other way around. I saw stars so hard I hit my head." He gave a practiced smirk.

"Tony, that's really not funny."

"Suit yourself, not my fault you don't have a sense of humor." Tony paused. Normally he wouldn't ask, but... "How are you?"

It was said awkwardly, and probably Bruce took it the same, but no sign of that lingered on his face. "Oh, I'm fine. I never take hits, and the Other Guy's indestructible. It's always a huge crash after, though. Normally I sleep for a day straight."

Tony glanced over. Bruce's face was pale, his eyes bloodshot. "Let me guess, you're as shit at taking care of yourself as I am."

Bruce snorted. "No one's as shit at taking care of themselves as you are. I would've slept, but all those meetings...there wasn't any time."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Tony huffed. "After all those times I tried to get out of them, you had a legitimate excuse all along and you never used it? Who _are_ you?"

This time, the look Bruce gave him was decidedly unimpressed. "A man who's getting paid to smash things."

Tony turned away. At first he'd decided to entirely ignore what Bruce had said, but as the seconds ticked by, he reconsidered. "Not a fan of Big Green?"

That was, for all intents and purposes, an idiotic question. Tony already knew the answer to it, and Bruce knew that he knew. Yet he still answered. "When a radioactive monster takes over your body and kills innocent people, it's pretty hard to like him." 

Tony hummed. He'd started working again, flicking through the holograms before returning to his soldering. 

After a long pause, Bruce continued. "It's...the worst part's waking up afterwards, with no memory of what happened, just rubble everywhere."

Tony took a breath that rattled his lungs. "It's not easy being a superhero, is it?"

Bruce just scoffed. "The Hulk isn't a hero. He's a monster."

Again, a long silence. Tony had no idea how to respond to that. Finally, he settled with, "Then how come my corporate mailbox is overflowing with fan-mail for you?"

Yeah. Not his best. 

But Bruce stared at him disbelievingly. "Fan-mail for me?"

"Repeating me? I thought you were smarter than that, Brucie-Bear. Yeah. We've had to empty the mailboxes eighteen times in the past week from the overflow of fan-mail. And before you say some dumb shit like 'it's not for me' I looked in there personally and saw _at least_ twenty-five letters addressed to the Hulk and at least forty-two addressed to Bruce Banner. My favorite's still the one who addressed you as 'Mr. Dr. Banner Hulk Sir,' but maybe I'm biased."

"You're...not joking, right?" Bruce asked slowly. "Because if you're joking about this, I..."

Tony raised his hands, soldering iron and all. "Hey, I'm not that much of an asshole. I'm surprised you didn't know already. Would've thought your team would have told you. They're getting mail, too."

Something strange flickered over Bruce's face partway through Tony's dialogue. Then he grimaced. "I haven't really talked to our team much. I...well, you're the only one I've talked to for longer than a few minutes."

Tony was again quiet after Bruce's admission. He cursed himself for not being better at this kind of thing. This was why he didn't have friends, and if he wasn't careful, he'd lose even what he had with Bruce. 

"Yeah, me too," Tony said finally. Then, quieter, "They, uh...seem to be hitting it off with each other."

"Tony, they're hitting it off with all of us."

"Then how come you haven't talked to them?" Tony challenged. 

Bruce actually flinched. "It's not them," he said, cagey.

"So it's you, then."

Bruce's face contorted and Tony felt a little bad. Bruce clearly hadn't taken that well. "I..."

When it became clear Bruce wasn't going to say anything else, Tony sighed. "Alright, drama hour's over. This stuff's giving me heartburn. If you were going to design a suit to take no damage from impact at terminal velocity, how'd you do it?"

Bruce's specialties were biochemistry and radiation, but he had 7 PhDs and several of them were in physics. The two of them had actually attended Oxford together - different classes, but Tony remembered hearing the name. Bruce knew what he was doing.

"First off, that's impossible with the materials we have on Earth," Bruce said. "Unless you made your entire suit out of vibranium, but you'd be lucky to find an ounce of that stuff."

"What a party pooper."

"But," Bruce said, "what about a backup system to slow the impact?"

Tony grinned. "Now we're talking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently in the comics Bruce and Tony attended Oxford University together and got the same degree - I think it was thermonuclear physics. Since they hadn't met before in the MCU, I'm going to stick to MCU canon by saying they were in different years/different classes and had only ever heard of each other.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a quick note, this fic is intended to be entirely gen. There will be no romantic pairings. It's my belief that our media perpetuates far too many romances (most of them unhealthy, which makes it worse) with little to no focus on relationships outside of romance. Friendships, parental relationships, sibling relationships, and other non-romantic relationships are just as important and are far more prevalent in real life. These relationships deserve to be celebrated for the wonders that they truly are.

Under JARVIS's persistent pestering, Tony found himself back in the communal kitchen that night.

One of the major oversights he'd made while constructing the then Stark Tower was failing to put a kitchen in his penthouse. Pepper called it a blessing: Tony often confused cooking with chemistry and ended up with bizarre results. The kitchen that he and all the Avengers called the "communal" one was the main one. He never cooked in it, but he always got his coffee or takeout leftovers from the fridge there.

So, he walked in to get some coffee and the pizza he'd had two nights ago - and stopped in his tracks.

Cap and Barton were sitting at the kitchen table, talking. Tony wasn't an expert on body language but it looked serious. He gave a split second's thought, grimaced, and started forward. As long as he was quiet, he should be able to go by unnoticed.

He took a step. Both heads snapped towards him in unison.

Damn. How did he keep forgetting? Rogers had super-hearing and Barton was a trained spy.

"Oh, am I walking in on something?" Tony asked. "I'd tell you to continue, but I don't want to hear it."

He internally winced right as the words left his mouth. That had come out wrong. 

Rogers' eyes narrowed in offense. "Do you have to be rude? We were having a private conversation."

He hadn't wanted to intrude and he'd tried to tell them that. "Not my fault you took it that way. This is the communal kitchen. Not the best place for private discussions, Rogers."

He stepped past them just in time to hear Rogers' frustrated huff. "Look, I realize I misjudged you. You're not the man I thought you were. But I still can't believe how little you compare to Howard."

Tony stopped.

Behind him, Barton said, "Steve, I don't think-"

"What did you just say?" Tony turned around slowly. "Please, say it again so I can have JARVIS record how much of a dick you are."

Rogers' eyes went wide in surprise and offense. "How much of a dick _I_ am? You're the one who was rude!"

"Guys, maybe we should all calm down-"

"I'll say it once. Do not make me say it again." Tony stepped towards Rogers, for once towering over him. "Do not _ever_ compare me to Howard again."

Rogers blinked, leaning back a little. He looked confused. "But-"

"Steve," Barton muttered, "shut up."

Tony gave a grateful glance to Barton and hightailed it out of there.

He stormed straight into his penthouse, grabbed the nearest glass, and hurled it against the wall as hard as he could. He watched as the glass broke, his breaths falling out of him like the shattered shards. 

He came back to his senses a second later with a curse. He'd been so high on adrenaline he hadn't noticed the throbbing in his ribs, or the fact that he'd used his left arm to throw the glass. His shoulder screamed red. The pulsing kind of red that spread with each heartbeat, the screaming red that got shriller with every movement Tony made. He cursed again.

"Sir," JARVIS said, "do you require assistance?"

"No." Tony wasn't sure if he were lying. "No, I'm fine."

"I believe Agent Barton is currently talking to Captain Rogers about your recent conversation."

Tony sucked in a breath. "I don't want to hear it, J." He'd made JARVIS after Jarvis. Jarvis wouldn't have condoned how he'd acted to Captain America. Tony didn't want a lecture.

"Very well." 

Tony clutched his left shoulder protectively with his right as he sank onto the couch. He only had one. For the first time he realized how strangely empty it made the room look, one solitary couch and a TV, nothing else. Tony had never needed anything else before. Now...

He shook his head. He was almost forty; he didn't need to think about such things.

Just as Tony was morosely eyeing the broken glass and attempting to psych himself up to clean it, JARVIS spoke again.

"Captain Rogers is currently on his way up."

Tony's shoulders tensed and he sprang to his feet. "Ow, fuck- JARVIS, do _not_ let him up here."

There was a pause. "Master Tony..."

JARVIS's tone reminded Tony uncomfortably of Jarvis. He blinked a few times, pushing back old memories. "J, I..."

"You know I am programmed to want the best for you, sir. My allowing Captain Rogers to speak with you will benefit both of you."

Tony heaved a sigh. "At least let me clean up the glass."

"I would never impede you from cleaning up your messes," JARVIS said dryly. "I shall inform Captain Rogers that he must wait until you are ready."

A spot of warmth built in his chest. Tony knew what JARVIS really meant. He still had to see Rogers, but he could take a few minutes to calm himself down first.

Tony cleaned up the glass shards in less than a minute. He took the next two to ready himself, planning out what to say so he wouldn't make another mistake like earlier. That - the planning - was the only reason he'd become a charmer. After you'd planned out enough eventualities, you could memorize a response to every situation. Tony just had to remember to pick the charming one.

Not that he'd been doing much of that for the past few years, though.

Finally, Tony felt he'd prepared as much as possible. He closed his eyes and braced himself.

"Bring him in."

JARVIS didn't respond, but a few seconds later Rogers's shadow, then his entirety, strode into view. 

"Tony," Rogers said, then stopped.

Tony went to say 'Rogers,' remembered that'd probably start another fight, and said, "Cap."

See? He'd managed an entire word without fucking up.

Rogers swallowed and shifted his weight to his other foot. "I, uh...Clint told me about Howard."

Tony's first reaction to _that_ statement was one of panic. "What did he tell you?"

Howard had never been physically abusive. Tony hadn't had a face covered in bruises or a back swathed in belt-marks. But after meeting Rhodey's parents, Tony had realized Howard hadn't been great, either.

"Not much," Rogers said. Tony exhaled. "Just that the man I knew and the man who raised you aren't the same."

Rogers looked down. Scuffed the toe of his boots against the wood floor. "I thought at least Howard wouldn't change. I thought at least his memory could remain intact, you know? But I was wrong."

Tony felt a twinge of sympathy. He would never - and didn't particularly want to - know what it was like to be in Rogers' place. To have everything torn from you and wake up in a different world. Rogers had been using Howard as an anchor to keep himself from sinking. Now he had lost even that. 

"I didn't want to believe that he could've changed too, so I didn't. And I ended up hurting you, Tony. I'm sorry."

Tony stared.

He was...

"You're apologizing?" 

Rogers' jaw tensed. "Yes, that was the point of coming up here," he said stiffly.

"Oh." 

People didn't apologize. They didn't. Apologizing was akin to admitting defeat, and no one wanted to lose to Tony Stark. Why was Rogers okay with losing over something so trivial?

"Are you going to say something?" Rogers asked. His eyes were narrowed but soft, torn between annoyance and concern.

"Why?" Tony asked slowly. 

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you apologizing," Tony clarified, scanning Rogers carefully. He ran through all the data he had of the man; all their previous encounters, all he'd ever heard of him. His confusion remained unabated. "It's not - it wasn't a big deal. You didn't realize what you were saying. Why bother to apologize for that?"

"Because it hurt you," Rogers said earnestly, and wow, the Captain America Look was clearly in need of a patent. "It doesn't matter if it wasn't on purpose, I still did it."

Tony swallowed. Well, if Rogers was willing to bare his neck to the chopping block, Tony owed it to him to follow suit. "I should...well. I said some rude shit too."

Rogers watched him evenly. 

Tony shifted his feet, eyes flicking sideways. "I've, uh...lots of people tell me I can be abrasive. I don't mean to be - not always, that is - but sometimes, well, things just come out wrong. It's what happened today. I..."

He couldn't force out the last words and hoped that would be enough. He couldn't bring himself to look at Rogers.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and when Tony looked up, Steve was smiling at him. "I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me, too."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Tony's face felt hot. He shrugged off Steve's hand and stepped back a little. "Enough with the drama, I'm too old for this."

Steve gave a light laugh. "You wanna come down and eat dinner? I'm making burgers."

Tony considered. "Well, can't turn down grease. Count me in, Capsicle."

* * *

As Tony stepped from the elevator into the kitchen, he was greeted with a hug.

He did not squeak, because Tony Stark does not squeak. Nor did he flail, or accidentally step on the toes of the hugger, or shove the hugger backwards as he tried to right himself. 

It was only once his back was securely against the wall next to the elevator, right arm slung protectively around his ribs, that Tony looked at his assailant. Then he groaned. He should've guessed.

"Thor, buddy, we talked about this."

Thor didn't look nearly as crestfallen as Tony had wished. "Indeed, friend Anthony. However, your answer was not satisfactory. You specified no time that we should speak of our friendship and its boundaries! I have been forcibly acquainted with loopholes through the wiles of my brother. It ill behooves you to attempt his same tricks."

Tony took a second to process that. Then he rubbed a hand over his face. This was the last time he'd be underestimating Thor. "Would you believe me if I said I forgot?"

Thor looked at him.

Tony sighed and scanned the room. Steve was at the stove, his back turned to them and apparently absorbed in his task. The rest of the room was bare of Avengers. He wouldn't be getting out of this, but at least there weren't many spectators.

"Look, can we at least take this somewhere else? Wonder Boy doesn't need to hear about the birds and the bees, or whatever we're going to talk about."

"I understood that reference," Steve called. "And you're right, I really don't."

"I did not," said Thor. "But if it will comfort you, we may take this to my chambers."

Tony gave a curt nod and the two of them entered the elevator. Once on, he made a point to stand as far away from Thor as possible. Instead of looking at Thor, he glared at the floor, arms crossed and shoulders sagging.

Why couldn't Thor have let it go? 

He fought back the urge to hit one of the metal walls when he felt Thor's eyes on him. Did Thor realize how he'd trapped Tony? He couldn't reject Thor outright, not with the risky impermanence of his position on the team. If he pissed Thor off, the demigod could easily go straight to Rogers and demand Tony be cut. Not to mention Tony simply didn't want to reject Thor.

Nor could Tony accept, for many of the same reasons. They weren't true teammates, so Thor couldn't expect them to be friends. Tony didn't have friends, anyway, other than Rhodey. 

So Tony was left in the gray area between should and shouldn't, knowing that either extreme had consequences. How the hell was he supposed to navigate this?

The doors opened and the two men stepped out, Thor in front of Tony. Thor dropped down on a huge, golden couch and looked imperiously up at Tony. The implication was clear.

Tony swallowed the urge to run and sat down as far away from Thor as he could get. Unfortunately, Thor seemed to have anticipated this and had sat in the middle of the couch. They ended up being a bare three feet apart.

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but for once couldn't think of a way to avoid the situation. He shut his mouth.

"Man of Iron," Thor began, "I am not as oblivious as you mortals believe. No, I have not Loki's cunning, but I have eyes to see and ears to hear. You have attempted to avoid talking to me this entire day. Am I right in saying this avoidance would only have continued?"

"No, of course not," Tony said.

Thor looked at him. "I will warn you before you try that again; I am used to Loki's lies. Do not lie to me."

Tony curled in on himself, hating the entire universe and wishing JARVIS would come up with something to get him out of here. He hated this entire situation. He was powerless, utterly out of control, forced to bend to Thor's whims.

Thor audibly sighed. "It pains me to ask, but it seems I must. Is your refusal to interact with me because you dislike me?"

"What? No, buddy, you're cool. Who wouldn't want to talk to you?" Tony gave an easy grin, although he doubted it would work.

It didn't. "You, it seems. But you don't seem to be lying. I had thought as much; you seem as little eager to speak with the rest of the team. Anthony, we wish to be your friends. Why are you refusing us?"

"We?" Tony asked, latching onto the one part of that he could safely talk about. "Who's 'we'?"

"Your team," Thor said. "As you know well, but pretend not to."

Tony's nerves skyrocketed. He began nervously jiggling a leg. "They - you - aren't my team, Shakespeare. I don't know why you keep trying to buddy up with a consultant instead of your actual team members."

"Of course we are!" Thor exclaimed. The sudden volume shift made Tony jump. "We have tasted victory together. What more do you need?"

Tony fidgeted. "Look, clearly you aren't too well-versed in SHIELD politics. I'm not on the team. It was a whole thing, 'Tony Stark not recommended' and all that. Okay? If Fury doesn't want me on the team, I'm not on the team. I'm just back-up."

Thor looked at him like he'd said something extraordinarily stupid. "I care not for what this SHIELD thinks. We've fought together. That is enough for me. Your teammates agree."

"What, like you've talked to them about it?" Tony scoffed.

"I've spoken with the Captain and the Widow," he said. "They desire to bond with you."

Right. Tony was skeptical, but decided not to call Thor out on it. "Okay, well maybe I don't reciprocate."

Thor tilted his head. "So say you now, but a few minutes ago you said the opposite."

Tony cursed under his breath. He started to stand. "Alright, you got me. Good talk and all that, but I think I'll be-"

"No, you shall not."

The utter command in Thor's voice made Tony sit back down. Thor moved closer to Tony. 

"I'm unsure what has made you so wary of friendship." Thor's voice gentled. "But rest assured, I will not be like those who proved unworthy of your trust."

Tony stared at him for a moment, transfixed by the effortless poetry of Thor's words. Then their meaning hit him. Like always when he was caught off-guard, his words failed him. "Uh..."

Thor nodded a few times. "I will not ask what happened to make you that way; that is your secret to keep, if you wish. But I wish this team to be as siblings to me, and you are a part of that. What the future king of Asgard says matters far more than the bureaucrats of some mortal organization."

He paused, obviously waiting for Tony to respond. Tony had no response to give. He felt like he'd been thrown into a chick-flick, except instead of a girlfriend, he had Thor. Surely people didn't say things like this in real life.

"Well, Anthony? What say you?"

Tony realized his head was frozen at an awkward angle. He winced and carefully rolled it out. "Not that this isn't incredibly kind, but..."

He stopped. He couldn't think of a way out. There was no way to quietly reject Thor. No way to accept without eventual repercussion. He rubbed a hand over his face and let out a cross between a groan and a sigh.

"Look, Thor, buddy. I'm touched, really I am, about this whole offer you have going here. I just don't think it's going to work out."

Thor examined him gravely. "I would ask why you think that, if I were not certain your words were but a deflection."

Tony went hot. 

"Truly, I cannot understand why you're so reluctant to accept. It is not dislike, and I have assured you your place on our team is secure. But I shall not pry. Instead I propose a deal."

"A deal?" Tony repeated somewhat dumbly.

Thor nodded. "I hadn't wished to resort to this, but it seems you leave me no choice. You will allow me the honor of your friendship for the next month."

Tony scoffed, huffing out a small laugh. "Yeah, no. What's in it for me?"

"I will no longer pester you," Thor said, with a hint of humor. "And, lest you think that is not enough, I have asked JARVIS for blackmail."

What?

Tony gaped. He could have taken ten years to prepare for this and it still would not have been enough. "You...what? How did you...?"

Thor looked at him evenly. "Unless you wish for Captain Rogers to see the debacle of April 16th, 1996, you will comply."

"JARVIS, what the- what the fuck?" Tony's shock was rapidly fading. "I programmed you to helpme! Not betray me like- like _Stane!_ I trusted you!"

The AI remained silent.

"And _you."_ Tony rounded on Thor, who didn't look the slightest bit repentant. "This is just low. I mean, I thought Loki was supposed to be the morally bankrupt, backstabbing sneak. Guess you learn something new every day, huh?"

Thor's face darkened. Tony didn't care. "I suppose my brother has...rubbed off on me, as you would say. Certainly, his tricks are useful. So, Anthony, what say you?"

 _"What say I?"_ Tony repeated ironically, still pissed beyond belief. "What _say I_ is that I can't believe you somehow roped my AI into blackmailing me just to make flower crowns and sing Kumbaya. This is just - if you wanted to be friends with me so badly, you could have done literally anything except the exact thing I still have nightmares about to this day."

Finally, Thor's composure crumbled a little. Good. "I am sorry to have affected you this way, Anthony. But I saw no choice. I've tried everything else I could think of - I approached you earlier, only to be ignored. Even now I tried repeatedly to sway you, but you continue to refuse for reasons unknown to me. I did not wish to do this."

"Then why," Tony gritted out, "the fuck did you do it?"

Thor's face tightened. "How many times must I say it? I find you worthy of my respect, a true warrior. I wish to be comrades, shield-brothers, family to you. And you yourself have said that the idea is not distasteful to you! If you had rejected me from distaste or dislike, I would have ceded defeat. But you have not. You cite meaningless trivialities such as SHIELD and teams, all which matters not to me."

"But it does to me!" Tony snapped. "And after what you've done, I have to say I'm getting a fair bit of distaste for you."

Thor looked so crestfallen Tony felt bad. "I don't understand. Why do you give this organization such importance? Enough to keep you from this?"

Tony sighed and closed his eyes. He briefly debated whether to answer and decided not to. Giving Thor the truth would make Tony far too vulnerable, especially with that blackmail still hanging over his head. It was best that he give in. After all, it was only a month. Once he'd satisfied Thor's demand, he could go back to keeping him at arms' length.

Not to mention, he couldn't deny he wanted to accept.

"Fine," Tony said after a short silence. "Fine, you win. I'll be your friend or whatever for a month, then that's it."

Thor brightened like a star. "You will?"

"But only a month!" Tony waved a finger at him. "And it's only because I would let Rogers see that tape over my dead body."

As pissed as he still was at Thor, he admitted he felt strangely flattered. He couldn't remember the last time someone had put effort into a relationship with him. Maybe this was a little _too_ much, but...it made him feel important. 

"But of course, Anthony," Thor said gravely. "If, at the end of the month, you don't wish to be friends with me, I won't force you. Shall we get started?"

Tony paused. "Before we do...my name's Tony, not Anthony."

Thor beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm not planning on turning this fic into a "prompt request" type of fic, I'm curious: what sort of things would you be interested in seeing next? Are there certain scenes, ideas, little plot-tangents that you'd like to see? Anything from funny to super angsty. I'm interested to hear your thoughts and ideas!


	6. Chapter 6

Thor hammered their brokered friendship's boundaries out with a surprising attention to detail. Tony wasn't certain what he'd expected when Thor had first revealed his intentions, but it wasn't this. Thor covered everything, from touch to conversation to spending time together.

Apparently it was customary on Asgard to put that amount of attention into friendships. Seeing as Asgardian relationships could last centuries, Tony guessed they wanted to make sure they started off right. Unfortunately, the knowledge failed to make the conversation any less awkward.

"Tony," Thor said at one point, the nickname seeming strange on his lips, "what are your thoughts on touch?"

"My thoughts. On touch."

"Indeed."

Tony couldn't remember ever being asked that before. He stared at Thor, nonplussed.

"You've seemed averse to it whenever I touched you before," Thor noted. "I will respect your boundaries if you wish me to, Tony. However, I will be able to tell if you're lying."

Tony curled up a little farther into the arm of the couch. "I'm not a fan. Overrated, if you ask me."

Thor looked at him.

"Fine! Fine. Actually, let's switch this up a bit. How are _you_ with touch?" Tony challenged.

"It pleases me greatly to share contact with those I love," Thor said, straight-faced. "But, I am learning that not all are as I am. That is one thing Midgard has taught me."

Those he- Tony closed his eyes and breathed out. "You can...touch me, I guess. If you want. Just not- no hugs, alright?"

"Very well," Thor said, and moved on.

Twenty uncomfortable minutes in, JARVIS informed them Steve was finished making dinner.

Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd stood up that quickly. As it was, the ride up to the kitchen was tortuous. He bounced on his feet, fingers drumming nonsensical rhythms on his thighs.

Part of the way up, a hand settled onto his shoulder. Tony jerked. He skittered backwards and looked up. Thor was gazing at him, mouth pinched in concern.

"You seemed nervous," Thor explained, voice soft. "I thought that would help. Didn't you say you were agreeable to being touched?"

Tony considered everything for a lightning-fast instant as though he were solving an equation. How would Thor react if he said X, versus if he said Y, versus if he said Z. How would this affect his future interactions with Thor. And how would Tony feel based on each solution?

He decided with a mental shrug to put in the truth for X and solve.

"I'm not used to being touched."

As soon as Thor's face shifted, Tony regretted his words. Wrong value for X. There's where the equation fell apart - and unlike in math, reality didn't get do-overs.

"What? The Lady Widow informed me that you have a lover. Was this false?"

Tony winced. "Pepper and I...aren't seeing each other right now. She's busy with SI. I'm busy in the workshop. Hard to meet up. Anyway, Pep's not really a touchy-feely girl, you know? Unless you count being slapped."

"Violence does not count," Thor said disapprovingly. "That should be reserved for one's enemies only."

Tony wondered why this elevator ride was taking so long. "Totally agree with you," he said to placate Thor.

Thor didn't look placated. "Answer me truthfully, Tony. Are you permissible to being touched?"

"Sure," Tony said, after a split-second's calculation.

After all, it was clear that Thor was extremely tactile. He'd be unhappy if Tony forbade him from touching him, and with 4/16/96 hanging over him, Tony couldn't risk that. He'd told Thor no hugs, so hopefully he'd get the idea and know not to get too close. Tony could put up with a few casual shoulder-pats here and there.

Thor squinted at him. He didn't look like he believed Tony. "Were this a few years earlier," he rumbled, "I would let it go at that. But after Loki..."

His eyes dropped. 

Tony felt a twinge of empathy in his gut. After Stane, he'd found it difficult to believe people, too. He'd become paranoid that everyone was lying to him like Stane had.

Which was why Thor's actions had upset him so much.

He took a breath to steady himself and felt his ribs protest. Thor's earlier hugging assault had crushed his ribs once more, and the ache was just now receding. He briefly wondered if Thor knew he was injured. Probably not; he'd left right after the battle ended. He'd only been at one interview, and that was when he'd gotten back three days ago.

Plus, Tony suspected that Thor forgot how long humans took to heal. He often forgot to control his strength around them. He apologized profusely every time, so Tony didn't think it was purposeful. Honestly, although Tony hated to admit it, Thor wasn't at all malicious. He was actually quite sweet. Just...thoughtless. 

As Tony's current situation could attest to.

"Like I said, I'm not used to it. But it's fine, just don't surprise me like that. And don't-" Tony broke off, wincing. He glared at the ceiling. Surely the elevator should've gotten to the kitchen by now?

"Don't do what?"

"Nothing."

Thor graced him with a long look. Tony released a sigh. "Don't go to touch me with your palms up. It's...it looks like you're trying to hand me something."

Thor nodded. With uncharacteristic hesitance he reached out his arm, palm down, until it was inches from Tony's shoulder. He met Tony's eyes inquisitively. Tony nodded and forced himself not to flinch as Thor's hand made contact with his shoulder. Thor squeezed his shoulder briefly - strong enough Tony was grateful it wasn't his left shoulder - and let go.

"I thank you for sharing this with me," Thor told him. "Please, do not hesitate to speak thus again."

"Uh-huh," Tony said dumbly. "Sure thing."

At that instant, the elevator door slid open with a cheery ding. _Finally,_ Tony thought as the two stepped out side-by-side. _I was beginning to think..._

He paused, not physically but mentally, and looked up at one of JARVIS's cameras. They'd walked into the kitchen now, and Tony could hear the general commotion that seemed ever-present with the Avengers. 

Had JARVIS delayed opening the doors on purpose? 

Given previous data, it wasn't illogical to presume. JARVIS had been pushing, both subtly and not, for Tony to socialize with the Avengers since the beginning. He'd allowed Steve up into Tony's penthouse so they could make up. He'd continually supported Tony whenever he'd been uncertain about speaking with the Avengers. He'd convinced Tony to let Bruce, Steve, and Barton into his workshop.

Tony's lips tightened. Yes, he was now certain JARVIS had kept Tony and Thor in that elevator until their conversation finished. He decided he'd figure out what to do about that later. In the meantime, Steve's burgers smelled great and Tony actually wanted one. It was the first time he'd wanted to eat since New York. 

"Look who the cat dragged in," Barton greeted, waving a burger in Tony and Thor's general direction. He was sitting on the back of the sofa, thirty feet away. "The tin can and a god from outer space!"

Tony scoffed. "Maybe it's just me, but that seemed a little biased."

"Fret not, Man of Iron!" Thor said. "We shall still be friends, at least unt-"

"Good to know," Tony interrupted loudly. "Always nice to know where you stand with someone, as I always say."

"I've literally never heard you say that," Barton said, deadpan.

"And now you have! Aren't you lucky." Tony glanced subtly around for Romanoff, hoping she hadn't heard what Thor'd been about to reveal. He wasn't sure he could take the humiliation if she found out. 

Sure enough, Romanoff was standing next to Steve at the stove. She seemed focused on cleaning the stove-top, but Tony knew better. She would've heard every word. He went cold. 

"Tony!" Steve said, turning around. He didn't look pleased to see Tony, per se, but he didn't look annoyed either. "Nice to see you and Thor finally showed up. All the food's on the counter, you can help yourself."

The cold sank further into Tony. Steve had implied Thor and Tony had been off doing something together. Combined with Thor's previous comment, there's no way Romanoff hadn't latched onto the oddity.

He stepped towards the island anyway, falling behind the more eager Thor. "I was planning on it," he said dryly, "seeing as I do own this place."

Steve huffed. He looked like he was about to fire back a retort, but bit it down - Tony guessed he didn't want to start another fight. He just turned back around and continued to clean his pan.

Thor went to sit on the couch next to Barton, greeting him with his usual boisterousness. Tony loaded his plate and set it down at the table next to Bruce, who was possibly the only normal person in the entire room.

Bruce looked over and smiled at Tony in greeting. He swallowed down a mouthful of salad and asked Tony how his day had been.

"I saw you for over half of it, so pretty good," Tony said without thinking twice. Then he swore internally. That was the sort of thing he'd tell Rhodey. Bruce was most definitely not Rhodey. "I mean...I wouldn't have figured out that equation nearly as fast without your input. I would've been slaving over that thing until midnight."

That wasn't true. Bruce had helped, but Tony would still have figured it out relatively quickly. Tony wasn't as used to chemical equations as Bruce was, but that didn't mean he was incompetent. 

Bruce either didn't pick up on the slip or was polite enough to let it slide. "Yeah, that was pretty complicated. I haven't had an interesting project like that in months, maybe even years. I haven't had the time."

Tony huffed a quiet laugh and took a bite of food. "I've had too much."

Bruce's eyes focused on him in a way that made Tony uncomfortable, but he said nothing. The two of them ate for a minute or so in silence, then Romanoff appeared across the table from them.

Bruce must've noticed her the same time Tony did, because he stiffened and almost jerked in surprise. "Natasha."

She hummed and ate a strawberry - where she'd gotten one, Tony had no idea. "Grey's Anatomy is shit."

Tony leaned back, eyes narrowed in confusion. What?

It was Bruce who seemed cautiously amused. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd like it. I think House is better, personally."

Romanoff frowned. "That's like comparing Tony's lasagna to a slice of pineapple pizza."

"Hey!" Tony interjected. "How dare you compare my masterpiece to pineapple pizza."

Bruce looked between them, perplexed. "Is Tony a bad cook?"

"Terrible."

"No!"

Tony glared at Romanoff for a few seconds. She looked back at him expressionlessly. "If you were such a good cook, why didn't you cook dinner instead of Steve?"

Oh, so that's where she was going with this. He'd genuinely wondered if she were going to let Thor's comment go. "The mood didn't strike me, I suppose."

"What mood were you in, then? A friendly one?"

Tony looked over at Bruce, back to Romanoff, and fought back a frown. What she'd just said to Bruce...hadn't Bruce told him that morning that he hadn't spoken to any of the Avengers at length? Whatever conversation they'd just referenced, they must've had that afternoon. Which meant Romanoff knew he hadn't been with Bruce the whole day. 

"I fail to see how that's your business, Romanoff," Tony said lightly, looking her straight in the eye.

Romanoff leaned back. "I thought it was all friends' businesses to know such things."

What was it with the Avengers and trying to trap him into friendship? Tony really hoped he wasn't alone in this. At least they should be trying it on Bruce, too.

"Stop it, Natasha," Bruce said tiredly. "Once was enough."

So she _had_ tried it on Bruce. Tony was wearily triumphant.

"I have no idea what you mean," Romanoff said, but she speared a berry with her fork. Tony and Bruce, content to let the subject drop, remained silent.

The rest of the meal passed in silence interspersed with Tony's remarks - he couldn't keep quiet, even with the vague threat of the Black Widow across from him. The three of them cleaned the dishes together. Bruce put away the leftovers (for there to even be leftovers, Tony wondered just how much food Steve had made) and Romanoff and Tony loaded the dishwasher.

The other three - Steve, Barton, and Thor - had already put their dishes up. Tony felt their eyes on him as he, Romanoff, and Bruce finished.

"Hey Tony," Barton called. "You have Netflix, right?"

"What kind of billionaire do you take me for? Of course I have Netflix."

Barton nodded as though that made sense. "Did you know that Thor and Steve have like, never seen an actual movie?"

"I'm disappointed but not surprised," Tony said. "Let me guess, Feathers, you're taking it on yourself to educate them?"

"Got it in one. I'm thinking we should start with Disney. Whaddya say?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "I would've started with Inception, but to each his own."

Barton rolled his eyes. "I wasn't asking about the movie choice, idiot. Clearly I'm the only one with taste in here. Are you going to watch it with us or not?"

"What, are you only asking Tony?" Romanoff interjected. 

"I already know it's pointless to ask you anything," Barton scoffed. "And Bruce, you're welcome too. Actually, you'd probably be more fun than Mr. Inception over there."

Tony huffed and held a hand to his heart. "Excuse me? Inception is a work of art and I will not sit here and let you insult it. I'm out."

Inception had been Jarvis' favorite movie. Tony'd always had a soft spot for it. He genuinely liked it, and its defense served a convenient excuse to escape Avengers movie night.

"Fine, be that way," Barton said, turning away. "Have fun doing whatever it is you normally do."

Tony turned. "I will, thanks."

He pretended not to see Bruce's look as he walked out.

* * *

It was exactly 4:38 in the morning when the Avengers alarm blared.

How did Tony know this? Because he'd been up the entire night and just asked JARVIS the time mere seconds before. 

"Hah, take that, JARVIS," Tony told the nearest camera, straightening from his worktable and tromping over to Mark VIII - not quite finished, but VII was completely destroyed and VI was awful. "You still going to suggest I go to bed?"

There was a heavy, mechanical sigh. "Yes, sir. May I remind you that you are severely injured and should not be standing, let alone fighting?"

"You may, but I'm disregarding it. Engage suit."

It took longer and far more teeth gritting than usual to suit up, but Tony was ready and stepping onto the launch pad before six minutes had elapsed. Unsurprisingly, Steve was already there, as was Thor. Romanoff strode into view a few seconds later, with a case of bedhead Tony dearly wanted to decimate her with. The glare she sent his way kept him quiet.

"Tony, are you sure you should be fighting?" Steve asked him, stepping towards him. His face was tight. "You, uh...did a number on yourself not even two weeks ago. It's perfectly understandable if you want to sit this one out."

Tony bridled. "I'm not weak," he spat. "I'm capable of fighting just as well as you. Just cause I'm not Captain America doesn't mean I can't-"

"Chill out, will you?" cut in a new voice. Barton, wearing Hawkeye pajamas. "How come every time I see you two, you're fighting?"

"Honestly," Romanoff said, smoothing her hair. "If you're going to kiss, just do it already."

Steve grimaced, looking ready to defend himself.

Tony just rolled his eyes, not deigning to give that an answer. "I'm fighting and that's final. Unless someone's going to remove me from my position as consultant?" 

"Tony, will you _stop-"_ Steve started, but Bruce stepped up right then and Steve let whatever he was going to say die. "Right. Everyone's here now so let's begin. Some of the left-behind Chitauri technology has started affecting the plants and animals around the battle-zone. SHIELD's working on removing the technology now, but it seems like the affected creatures are getting out of control."

"So we're going to bash up some plants?" Tony asked.

Steve sighed. "Basically. The report also said animals, so I'm thinking maybe some pigeons or squirrels. Anything affected has gone berserk. Think bigger, more aggressive. The situation hasn't devolved too badly yet, so we won't bring you in, Bruce, unless it gets worse."

Bruce nodded, knuckles white.

"Hawkeye-"

"What, I'm Hawkeye now?"

"It's called a mission, idiot," Romanoff said. "We go by code-names in them. Have you forgotten every past mission with SHIELD ever?"

"I thought Stevie would make an exception. I thought he loved me."

Steve looked at Barton blankly for a moment as though he had no idea how to respond to that. Tony toyed with the idea of telling Barton he loved him, before deciding that was too close to something he'd say to Rhodey.

"Right. Moving on. Thor, Widow, and I will be the main attack force. Hawkeye, you'll support us from the rooftops, picking off anything we miss. Iron Man, aerial surveillance."

Surveillance? Rogers was practically preventing him from fighting at all. "I just said-"

"Those are my orders, Iron Man." Captain America turned to face him fully. Even in the suit, Tony felt small compared to him. "Are you going to disobey direct orders?"

Through great effort, Tony kept silent. Pushing Captain America too far would only end badly, possibly with his tenuous position on the team forfeited. He shook his head, grateful that he'd already closed his suit's visor.

"Good. To the Quinjet, everyone."

The Avengers pressed forward as one to the plane. Tony hated their unity. He took to the air instead.

As tight as it was, every movement in his suit was agony for Tony. His ribs throbbed unrelentingly with every shallow breath. A sharp ache was building in his head.

"Iron Man, what are you doing?" 

"What does it look like?" Tony answered Captain America shortly. "Aerial surveillance. Getting started early."

The Quinjet lifted off a few seconds later and Tony followed. He swooped around the plane as economically as possible, scanning the streets below for any sign of trouble. The first few streets were relatively quiet - for New York City, anyway - but as the seconds ticked by, Tony began to hear the commotion.

The jet landed on a broad, flat rooftop that somehow managed to support its weight. The Avengers, sans Bruce, leaped out and all but Barton descended to the street below, weapons ready. They landed on the outskirts of the noise Tony had heard. 

Tony flew forward. A few people were running towards him, one screaming. Behind them was a cluster of what Tony assumed had been potted plants. They certainly weren't potted anymore.

The Chitauri-influenced plants were indeed bigger, just like Captain America had warned. What had once been a mere few inches had now elongated to feet. There was a stomping, seven-foot cactus, several crawling succulents, and a varied assortment of ferns and flowered plants Tony couldn't identify. 

"Found them," Tony said into his comm. "A cactus, some succulents, and some other friends headed your way. They're big, but don't look like they'll be that hard to deal with."

Right as he said that, a middle-aged man ran past the plants. A huge, thorny vine grew from one of the succulents and hit him. He hurtled backwards with a cry.

Tony cursed. "Take that back. Apparently they can grow the equivalent of a thorny sword and stab people with it. They attacked a civilian; I'm going in."

"Iron Man, what did I say about surveillance?" Captain America barked. Tony looked back and saw him, Romanoff, and Thor running towards the scene.

"A civilian's dying," Tony said. "I'm not going to sit here and watch that happen!"

He'd already begun his descent as he'd said that. The extra-aggressive succulent's thorny appendage had reared back for another blow. The man it'd hit crawled back frantically, his leg bleeding and mangled.

The vine sliced towards the man. Tony darted in.

One propulsor blast cut the vine in two. Tony grabbed the man around the middle, heaved him up, and soared away. As he flew he heard the three Avengers engage with the plants.

Tony set the man down a block away. When he drew back his hands were covered in blood from the man's leg wound and his ribs were sharp pricks of steel in his chest. 

"Alright," Tony said. His comm was blaring constant updates from the Avengers. "Here's what you're gonna do. Call 911, get that leg fixed, and for the love of God don't get yourself mixed up in another one of these things. Got it?"

The man nodded mutely, probably shell-shocked. Tony nodded back, gave him a thumbs up, and took off.

"Civilian's safe," Tony said into the comm. His eyes flicked over the world below him. Romanoff and Cap were tag-teamed on the cactus. The rest of the plants were dismembered and motionless. Thor was nowhere in sight. "Status update?"

"The first group of plants is almost down," Romanoff responded. "Thor found a loner. Hawkeye's evacuating civilians."

"Do we have any idea the scale of this thing?" Tony asked. He flew lower over the rooftops, searching for Thor and Barton. A few more groups of plants caught his eye, but none of them had found any civilians yet. "There's- AGH!"

His chest went white-hot. His hands seized, stopped holding him up. He started to fall from the sky. JARVIS's emergency protocol kicked in as he fell, stopping him merely a foot away from a roof. He landed heavily, arms clutched around his ribs. What the fuck had that been?

"Iron Man? What's going on?" Cap asked.

"N-nothing," Tony gasped out, trying to regain himself. "I'm fine. Something hit me. Looks like our pals might have some sort of Mother Nature-sponsored missile."

"Iron Man, I'm going to suggest-"

"Shut it," Tony said, mostly because JARVIS was saying the same thing. "I think I found the culprit. Venus flytrap, anyone?"

When he looked down, his armor had a slight dent in it just about the size of one of the plant in question's vicious spikes. The alien tech had probably given it the ability to throw them. He grimaced.

"We're on our way," Romanoff said. "Hawkeye, what's going on over there?"

"Evacuated all the civilians I could find," came the response. Barton was breathing hard. "Got ambushed by a couple of these things, though. Might need some backup. They're, uh, resistant to my arrows."

Tony made a note of that. "I'm coming, Birdy. Where are you?"

Barton told him. Tony pushed off and started over there. He limped, if it were possible to limp while flying, all the way there. He'd bit his tongue at some point and now his mouth was filled with blood.

Thor's voice came over the comm: "I have completed surveillance. It appears that this battle is as small as we originally thought. There are a few enlarged beasts near me, and several groups of plants. That's all. We should be finished soon."

"We still have cleanup, though," Romanoff said morosely.

"Can't we just leave it to SHIELD?" Barton said. He grunted. "Seeing as it's kinda their fault this happened in the first place?"

"I, for one, am all for that," Tony said. "Hawkeye, I'm coming in."

"Thank God," Barton said fervidly. 

Tony surveyed the situation as he flew down. Barton was down on the street, surrounded by an unhappy orange tree, a malicious mint plant, and some sort of large, flowered and furious third plant. He was favoring one leg. Tony remembered he'd been treated for an ankle sprain as well as a concussion after the Battle of New York. Tony wasn't the only one going into this fight injured.

Although, considering Barton's current condition, maybe it hadn't been a good idea for him, either.

Tony dropped from the sky. He cleanly severed the orange tree in two on his way down. Three more well-placed blasts and the tree was motionless, leaves strewn across the pavement.

As his feet hit the ground, a shock went through his whole body and he convulsed. He gagged, fighting down vomit.

A minty arm charged towards him. He ducked, sending one arm out to throw himself sideways. The second landing sent another pulse of agony through him and his vision darkened for a second. 

Dammit, he thought, blinking rapidly as the mint plant darted to him again. Just a little longer...

"JARVIS, engage auto-pilot," he muttered.

His arms shot out of their own accord and fired a blast that threw mint leaves everywhere. His body left the ground. The flowered plant's vines slammed into the sidewalk where he'd been. Another propulsor blast cleaved the tips of the vines off. Their remnants smoldered on the asphalt. 

The flowered vines swung at him again. An arrow sunk into one of them and it flailed wildly in some plant-based agony. The suit flew backwards, turned a neat back-flip, and landed. Tony dry-heaved even as his hands fired another blast at the mint plant.

The propulsor blast decapitated it, spraying leaves and sap everywhere. Three more arrows sank into the flowered plant, and with one final beam from Tony, it blew apart as well.

Tony went over to Barton, who was struggling to stand. From the comm, the Avengers all said the same thing: they'd finished their part of the fight. It was over. 

"You don't look too hot," Tony remarked, offering a hand to Barton. 

"I'm extremely sexy, thank you very much," Barton scoffed, taking the proffered arm like a lifeline. Too late, Tony realized he'd given Barton his left arm, not his right, and fought back a cry of pain.

"O-on second th-th-thoughts, how about we do the...o-other arm," Tony gritted out, grabbing Barton with it and dislodging the man's grip on Tony's left arm. "It's too pretty for you."

"I take offense," Barton said. Tony wrapped his arm securely around the man, and he grabbed Tony's neck, clinging to him like a koala. Tony couldn't quite hide his grunt as he took to the sky.

"Dude, you okay?"

"Not you too," Tony complained. "Here I thought you were cool."

"I'm very cool. Cool enough to know that Steve wasn't talking out of his ass when he asked if you were okay to fight today."

"I'm _not_ weak. I might not be some enhanced super-soldier like him, but I can damn well fight," Tony said. He tried to snap it, to sound angry, but he had to pause to gag partway through when Barton shifted and Tony's ribs twisted. Ribs weren't supposed to move like that.

Barton was quiet for long enough Tony thought he wouldn't answer. He finally said, quietly, "I dunno what Howard made you believe, but damn, don't compare yourself to Captain America. Not even Steve compares to that."

"Shut your pie-hole," Tony said, gentler than he'd meant. "You're probably still concussed from last week. You don't know what you're saying."

Barton hummed, letting that go.

They were within sight of the Quinjet when Barton spoke again. His words were so quiet Tony strained to hear them over the wind, and slurred enough he struggled to decipher them. "Yer full o' shiiit, by the way. Yer jus' as muh part o' the team 's any of us."

"What?" Tony had no idea where that had come from. He was beginning to put more credence on his 'concussed Barton' theory.

Barton nodded to himself. "Don' forget 't. Mkay?"

Tony landed next to the jet and carefully unloaded Barton from his koala position. "Whatever you say, Birdbrain. Let's get you into medical."

He would deny for the rest of his days, 4/16/96 tapes and all, that he'd said those words affectionately. And he would go back to the wormhole twice over before he'd ever admit to carrying Clint into the Quinjet himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Tony faces the music for his genius decision of going into battle while injured. Who will lecture him? Will it be Bruce? Steve? Thor? A combination of all three? Stay tuned to find out!


End file.
